


climbing up the walls

by revengeavenue



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst, Denial, Dissociation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Getting Help, Hallucinations, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Psychological Trauma, Recovery, Sadness, Therapy, happy ending i guess??, it's really sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-05
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-07-21 16:06:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 38,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7394257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/revengeavenue/pseuds/revengeavenue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan's journey to feeling real was not an easy one, not at all, but perhaps getting there was worth it in the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

> quick disclaimer: self-diagnosis is wrong and it's only a part of this story for the plot. I am in no way endorsing it. please don't self-diagnose. you are not a doctor.
> 
> yes, it's titled after the radiohead song.

It started sometime in year twelve. Dan was only seventeen, barely old enough to understand much of anything at all. Teenage years are for figuring out things, but not in Dan's case. Nothing was becoming any more clear or understandable. In fact, it was doing the exact opposite. Everything was turning hazy, like a fog set out to destroy his vision. It seemingly effected only his.

The day that changed it all hadn't been too kind. The noisy hallways etched sounds into the inner walls of his brain. Pairs of eyes never met his own, instead, they avoided them. Dan was okay with that because he avoided them too, fearing what they could find out by looking into them. It seemed that his peers only wanted to dig up dirt on everyone else, just to taste a new topic on their tongues. He didn't want a part in that.

That particular day was the beginning of the awareness; the awareness of the haze, lost memories, and being able to float up above his own body. He'd always been able to see himself from afar, like it all was a bad movie. His life strongly resembled that of a poorly written character in one of those bad movies. He never thought much of it, or anything, for that matter.

Dan liked to think he attracted the haze, it was all his fault that the bad things happened. They just did, and there was nothing he could do to control it. Pure existence wasn't so easy for him. Others his age had the simple life he had always hoped for, but would never receive. It didn't work out like that for him.

That day at school ended with not a single moment of feeling real. His own limbs didn't feel attached, and his head felt like another person was controlling it. He went home thinking it was just the numbness settling too far in. Hours later, he would figure out the meaning of it all, and it would impact him more than he planned.

When Dan got home from school, he set all of his things down in the kitchen and headed upstairs to his room. He proceeded to plug in his lights, his stereo, and his laptop. Then he got changed out of his school clothes and into sweatpants and a tee shirt. He always did the same things around the same time, never changing his routine for anything.

It was a Friday, meaning he could spend the night online like he always did. Except this time, he was going to try to figure out what was wrong with him. He wasn't at all looking forward to it. He'd been putting it off for a reason, and that reason being that he didn't want to know.

Dan knew he wasn't alright. His head was too detached from the rest of his body to be so called 'alright'. Now, it was just the fact of the matter that he'd have to put a name to his feeling, which is exactly what he didn't want to do.

When you give something a name, you identify it. You bring attention to it. It becomes real; an echo inside your head when you are reminded of it in day to day situations. It doesn't go away. It has a name and it makes itself be known. That was what Dan feared the most: the catastrophic breakdown that comes after a discovery of self.

Though fear did stop him more than he'd like to admit, he swore that it wouldn't this time. He had to know. It was going to break him down either way, so he made the decision that it was simply what had to be done.

Dan had no clue where to start, so he just searched through an alphabetized list of psychological disorders he found online somewhere. He hated himself the whole way through; hated the way he was searching for a label to fit his mental state. Only neurotic people search for problems.

Nothing seemed to click, until he found it.

"Dissociative disorders (DD) are conditions that involve disruptions or breakdowns of memory, awareness, identity, or perception."

That sounded so hauntingly familiar, as he continued to read the webpage. As the brightness of the screen began to hurt his sensitive eyes, everything clicked. He started getting chills, while he read more that matched his experiences almost too well. He bit back the desire to scream, because his mother was downstairs and he wanted her to assume everything was okay.

He was so terrified of the inner workings inside his head, and now, their faults had a name. Dan hated to self-diagnose, but he needed something, anything to blame for these events. He could now point the finger at a dissociative disorder whenever his head slipped through his fingers like grains of sand.

All he could feel was static, as he closed the webpage and shut his laptop. Even though the room was still lit by the Christmas lights he taped up the walls, it felt exceptionally dark. The feeling draped itself over him; lazy and heavy.

The seventeen year old put his laptop away and stared at his reflection, or what was left of it, in the mirror. Physically there was something, but mentally, there was almost nothing left. He drug his nails up his arms, imagining all the skin cells gathering underneath the remnants of his nails. Was all that a lie? Do cells really exist? He always questioned the things he couldn't see, and now it would only get much worse.

Perhaps he questioned his own mind more than anything, though that only made it worse. Deterioration or restoration? Which one was going on more in his head? Dan knew the answer, he knew it so well. He just didn't want to vocalize it.

That night was spent sleeplessly shivering under five blankets. He was thinking about texting Phil the entire night; only thinking about it. The phone never made it into his hands and he wasn't making an effort.

Two in the morning rolled around and his bones felt weighted by nothing, yet everything at the same time. He decided to get a shower to relax himself for a couple minutes. Maybe he let the water run cold on purpose. After all, his eyes locked with the shower wall for too long. He lost track of time, or whatever that meant.

An hour later he was in bed once again, but still nowhere closer to sleep. Would his dreams be different now? What was going to change? What could he possibly tell Phil to make him understand?

His bedroom ceiling was staring back at him, taunting almost. He wanted to shut his eyes and sleep for the rest of his life, however, that wasn't going to happen when all he did was worry. What if thinking too much would make his mental state even worse? And would that be enough to kill him?

Dan never considered himself as suicidal or depressed. If he was either of those things, he was completely unaware. The seventeen year old was intrigued by life, to some degree. He just wished he was someone else most of the time: someone with a healthy mental state and a happy childhood. Lacking in both of those things wasn't so pleasant.

The sun started to rise, and Dan only felt the weight of his eyelids get heavier with the passing minutes. Hesitant, he gave into sleep at six in the morning with the most exhaustion he'd felt in a while. He never did text Phil.

-

Phil thought it was strange that Dan didn't text him after school, like he usually did. He let it go, though, despite his suspicions. Dan was the type of person that needed a lot of space after a bad day at school, and Phil was always willing to give him that space. He respected Dan more than his own parents most days.

It wasn't until the next morning that Phil began to worry again, since he caught up on some sleep. He wasn't getting much of that, as of recent. His own dreams kept him awake at night; the dark shadows looking a lot like something out of a horror movie. It was too easy for the seventeen year old to scare himself.

Rolling out of bed, he stretched and was missing Dan quite a lot. He often wondered if he was as okay as he presented himself to be. Phil knew of many situations where a person hid something for an extended period of time and did a lot of damage that way. He started to worry even more, and reached for his phone to text his best friend.

He didn't want to be invasive, so he kept it simple.

To: Dan / 6:37 am  
hey, are you doing alright?

Phil didn't expect an immediate reply. Dan was unpredictable when it came to his responsiveness. Some days he was super engaged in conversation and seemed relatively happy all in all. Others, he was distant and didn't say very much at all. Most people would turn the other cheek because of that, but Phil stayed. He always would; he cared and he couldn't change that if he tried.

The hours passed, as Phil got ready and made a video for his YouTube channel. It was just something he did to distract him from the fact that he was overly concerned about Dan at this point. He even wrote down a plethora of new video ideas and planned them out a bit. It helped a bit, though Dan was still at the back of his head the entire time.

-

Little did Phil know, Dan had gone to sleep minutes prior to him sending his message of concern. He slept soundly until around noon, when he woke up confused. Then, he remembered how he spent his time that night. Everything came crashing down again, but this time it was all internal.

Dan laid there for a few minutes, doing nothing but tracing his hipbones and staring at the ceiling. He took note of how prominent they were; a discovery he made amidst his dissociative state. Once he regained his mind in full again, he found himself scared.

He feared that knowing so extensively about his obvious mental condition was only going to make it worse. There was nothing he could do about it, even with the awareness that it would happen. Perhaps it would be his demise.

His bed seemed a lot more comfortable than usual. It remained a matter of time until his mother came upstairs to yell at him for something. At that moment, Dan wished for nothing more than the house to himself all weekend. Sadly, he knew that wouldn't happen. He'd have to be the one to leave if he were to get away from her at all.

His phone still sat upon his bedside table, cold and unused. He reached for it, grabbing it and unlocking it sleepily.

(1 New Message,  
6 hours ago):  
From Phil: At 6:37 am  
hey, are you doing alright?

Dan sat up in bed as his heart jolted in his chest. Phil was worried, and he caused it. He immediately felt guilty, since he did this to his best friend a lot. He knew Phil worried about him more than he should, and no matter how many times Dan told him not to, he always did. It was a sweet gesture, yet it made Dan feel terrible when he was to blame.

He relaxed himself, and typed out a reply.

To: Phil / 12:48 pm  
yeah, just had a bad night. sorry for making you worry.

To his avail, Phil texted back seconds later. Dan felt so bad.

From: Phil / 12:49 pm  
it's fine! need me to come over?

To: Phil / 12:49 pm  
can I come over to yours instead?

From: Phil / 12:49 pm  
yes, of course. did something happen?

To: Phil / 12:50 pm  
no, nothing like that. I'll be over.

From: Phil / 12:50 pm  
okay.

-

"Where are you going, Dan?" His mother yelled before Dan's hand made contact with the door knob.

Dan nearly sighed, but somehow held back. He couldn't believe she had the audacity to ask when he was seventeen and only had one friend.

"To Phil's." He said, curtly.

"Alright, be back soon please. You spend too much time there anyway."

Dan said nothing more, and opened the door to the crisp outside air. He disliked the early spring weather; it felt strange in his lungs. He was glad that Phil lived a few blocks away. It was convenient when he needed to get away from his own house.

When he got there, Phil was already at the door. He opened it and embraced Dan in a cautious hug. It took everything in Dan's power not to breakdown right then and there, because he knew deep down he didn't deserve someone as lovely as Phil in his life so permanently.

"You don't have to tell me everything, I just want to help you." Phil said, pulling away from the slightly shorter boy in front of him.

Dan couldn't meet his eyes, "Okay...thank you."

"Don't thank me, Dan. It's your decision to give others information or not. You know I'd never force you to tell me anything."

They went to Phil's room, which still had his camera and tripod set up from making that video earlier. He quickly walked over to it and began to put it away, "Oops, sorry! I swear I won't record you."

Dan laughed half-heartedly, "It's fine."

While Phil was cleaning up all his camera junk, Dan sat on the edge of his bed. His fingers suddenly became extremely interesting as he started to explain. "So...lately, I've been feeling...off? I don't really know how to explain this."

Phil made his way over to the spot Dan was at. He sat down next to his best friend, looking straight into his eyes as he looked down at his fingers.

"It's okay, take your time." Phil lightly smiled at him, though he knew Dan didn't see it.

Dan continued, "I-I've been feeling detached from myself, like I can't seem to get a grip...and it's so much worse than before. My own emotions feel out of reach and sometimes I feel hazy...I can't remember things I should. W-When I look in the mirror, it's...it's almost like I can't recognize myself, and I want to. I want to believe that it's me but I don't think I can."

Before they both knew it, Dan's cheeks were covered in tear tracks. He gave in, letting them fall freely. He could cry now; he wasn't at his house.

Phil put his hand on top of one of Dan's and curled his fingers in slightly, to try to comfort him somehow.

"Last night...I...looked up a bunch of psychological disorders. I think I have some variation of a dissociative disorder. I'm not s-sure though." Dan finally looked at Phil, and saw the tears threatening to spill out of his eyes. That absolutely killed him.

Phil moved closer to Dan, wrapping an arm around him and pulling him close. "I'm so sorry, Dan. I've heard of that before...if there's anything-anything at all that I can do, I will help you. I'm here, I want you to know that."

Dan accepted his coddling subconsciously, the tears still finding a way out and running down his cheeks.

"T-Thank you...I don't know what to say..."

"Just relax, it's okay."

And right then, it was unbelievably easy to believe Phil. He had that about him, the way he could alter your thinking, making you believe that everything was okay. Dan knew it wasn't, and secretly, so did Phil.


	2. comfort, and its forms

A couple weeks later, Dan is sitting on the floor in his room, contemplating how everything changed so quickly. It wasn't like this a month ago. He and Phil had always been very close, and he never thought it would go beyond that. It did. They saw each other daily, and for most of the day. If they're weren't together, they were texting in school, since neither of them had other friends to talk to. It was always DanandPhil, simple and so familiar.

Dan knew that his newly discovered disorder played a part in that, and he didn't like that Phil was worrying more now. He didn't want to be a burden to his only friend. Phil didn't mind, he only wanted Dan to be alright. He never thought Dan as a burden, he cared too much to be annoyed by anything his best friend put him through.

The sun was setting as he sat there; still and tranquil. Another day tomorrow, another chance. He didn't think of it like that, though. Phil did, but he didn't. He thought of it as another day to float aimlessly in a world that built his mind and body to go against him. Dan felt like a machine with loose parts. Nothing felt natural, not anymore. He obsessively thought out every movement his vessel of a body made.

Dan often wondered what it was like to be Phil. He was always smiling, and always so optimistic. Dan found it impossible to look at the bright side of anything. Everything was so wrong and none of it would work out in the end, anyway. As far as he knew, Phil wasn't mentally ill, and he also had a happy childhood. Dan loved him to bits, yet envied him at the same time.

It was getting particularly dark, and still, Dan was glued to his bedroom floor. He wasn't doing anything important, just lost in his own head. He'd come accustomed to that; the fact that it was so easy, too easy, to stop the world for some time and dissociate. It wasn't a choice, more like a state he entered without fighting it. Sometimes he remembered doing it, sometimes not. It all came down to the day. That evening, he remembered it, and he's not sure if he wanted to.

He was dreading school more than usual. There wasn't anything there for him, other than Phil, of course. He didn't care about all the things that filled his heavy textbooks: none of it mattered to him. All he wanted was to feel like he had a place in his own head, and he'd never receive that from any school education. Perhaps a therapist could help. However, he didn't want to go through all the trouble of that if it wouldn't even work.

Dan felt alone, an eerie type of alone. His parents were home, but they didn't care to pay any attention to him most days. Although Dan was glad they left him alone, he also felt pretty shitty about it. They were his parents, after all. He had mixed feelings about the whole thing. Maybe it would be better when he moved out of their house, and in with someone who paid attention to him in the way he wanted attention.

Homework had long since become irrelevant to Dan, for he had better things to do. He grabbed his phone off his bed and texted Phil instead of paying any mind to his calculus homework.

To: Phil / 6:57 pm  
are you doing anything important?

Dan worried for a few minutes, because he sort of had his mind set on spending time with someone that wasn't himself. He didn't want Phil to say yes. His phone vibrated, finally, after an internal battle against himself.

From: Phil / 7:04 pm  
not anymore!! why, what's up?

Dan sighed in relief. He really wanted to spend time with his best friend before another Monday drained him.

To: Phil / 7:05 pm  
can you come over? or can I? I just need someone, I guess.

From: Phil / 7:06 pm  
I'll go to yours if your parents aren't a problem. I don't want you to get in trouble.

To: Phil / 7:06 pm  
they haven't been upstairs all night. you can come in from my porch.

From: Phil / 7:07pm  
okay!! :-)

Dan took a deep breath and waited for Phil to arrive at his door. That was the good thing about having his own balcony off his bedroom, he could have Phil over and his parents didn't have to know. He didn't want them in his business, they just criticized him.

While he waited, he cleaned up what he could of his room just to pass the time. He wasn't a fan of keeping his room perfect all the time; he liked what most would call an organized mess. Stacks of notebooks that once laid about were now somewhat neatly stacked on his desk. They were filled with poetry, bits and pieces of prose, and ideas for things he probably wouldn't ever create. Clothes were thrown onto his closet floor, because he just didn't see the point in hanging them up in the first place. Books were alphabetized by title on his bookshelf, complete with various knick knacks in front of them. Phil called them "Dan things", and Dan thought it was...cute. His piano was left untouched for many weeks, and Dan didn't know why he hadn't played it in so long.

Phil didn't have to worry about ice on the steps, because it was finally spring. The air still felt winter-like, but the ground and surfaces of things were warm enough to prevent freezing. Phil was rather thankful for that. He wasn't one to have sure footing.

Dan caught sight of his silhouette behind the glass of the door, and made his way to it. He opened it with a smile; a genuine smile.

"Hey, are you alright?" Phil kept his voice low as he stepped in, afraid of getting Dan in trouble.

Dan's eyes beamed at him without realizing, "I'm fine, yeah. Just lonely."

Phil shut the door softly behind him. "Well, I'm here now, so you shouldn't be. How is everything?" He said, his words loaded with kindness and patience. Dan knew exactly what he meant by 'everything'.

"I know, I feel better already. It's...okay. I'm still having a hard time dealing with it." Dan hated to talk about his feelings, but Phil cared, and he wanted to help. He was going to let him in, because he needed to talk about everything, even though he didn't want to most times.

Dan trusted Phil, and it wasn't easy for him to trust at all.

Phil moved in to wrap his arms around his best friend, and Dan happily complied. They stood there with Dan's head on Phil's shoulder, and Phil held him like he always did. Except, this time, it was more comforting than ever. Phil squeezed him one last time before Dan let go.

Dan felt so content in Phil's arms; like nothing would ever hurt him, not even his own mind. He knew Phil wasn't a cure to his disorder, but he sure as hell helped douse the flames it gave off. He was never good at knowing what he wanted, so it was odd that he knew, for a fact, that he wanted to stay in Phil's arms all night. He knew he couldn't, which was disheartening in every which way.

Phil looked into his eyes, and placed his hand on Dan's shoulder, slowly caressing all the way down to his elbow. Dan gave in to his mindless instinct, and wrapped his arms around Phil again. This time, he memorized every detail his senses allowed him to experience. Once just wasn't enough.

Phil was surprised, yet he hugged him back. "Want to talk?" He asked, mumbling against the sound of their clothes ruffling against each other.

Dan didn't pull away, no, not yet. He couldn't bring himself to. "No, I just need you to be here."

"Okay, I can do that." Phil replied, his voice calming, and all around pleasant to listen to.

When Dan pulled away, Phil saw the beginning of what appeared to be tears in his eyes. He didn't panic, at least not on the outside, and lead Dan to his bed. Dan was a bit confused, until Phil slipped his shoes off.

Dan climbed into his own bed first, and Phil scooted in after him. He should've felt trapped, with a wall on his right and Phil on his left, but he didn't. He felt safe, if anything. Phil pulled the black comforter over their bodies, and Dan was suddenly reluctant to move any closer to Phil.

"Come here," Phil said to him, as he opened his arms wide enough for Dan to fit between.

Dan silently moved closer, and into his best friend's arms. Many people would've thought that they were crossing the fine line between friends and lovers, but neither of them cared what other people thought about their relationship. Affection isn't a concrete principle; it can be given to another person despite the level of the relationship.

Phil held him close to his jumper clad chest, and rubbed his back. Dan felt the safest he'd ever felt. He wished he could capture that moment in time forever, and live inside it until he could no longer. It was breathtakingly beautiful: the way Dan fit in Phil's arms.

Dan suppressed the tears that so violently wanted to spill, and instead, focused on the feeling he felt in his chest. It wasn't easy to describe, since he mostly just felt happy. That momentary happiness overshadowed all else. He felt like he was going to explode; so on edge, so wonderfully content, and so much he didn't say.

They laid there in quiet for awhile, and Dan felt his eyelids getting heavy. Reluctance to sleep kept him awake. He felt warm with Phil under the covers, a satisfying temperature that he never wanted to abandon.

Phil felt Dan loosen his grip from around his waist. He was getting tired, and he could tell that he was fighting it. Phil himself, on the other hand, felt more awake than ever. He couldn't help but notice how Dan looked so breakable, like one wrong move and he would shatter beneath his fingertips. All he wanted to do was keep Dan safe, for as long as he could.

"Are you tired?" Phil questioned, even though he already knew the answer.

There was a beat of silence while Dan stirred. "Yeah...a little."

"I should probably go soon, it's around nine." Phil didn't even want to leave. He wanted to stay with Dan all night so he could make sure he was okay, but his parents would get worried if they went in his room and found that he wasn't there. He reckoned that was the only thing stopping him from staying.

He felt Dan clutch onto him again briefly, and it made him feel terrible. "Okay."

Phil hesitantly moved away from Dan. Getting out of his bed and putting his sneakers back on was the hardest part, he thought.

He leaned over his bed and hugged Dan one last time. One of his curly locks of brown hair brushed his cheek, and it made a smile creep onto both their faces.

"Goodnight," Phil whispered, taking a second or two to admire Dan's current form. He looked so pretty.

Dan grinned at him, "Goodnight."

"Text me if you can't sleep, I'll probably be up anyway." Phil made his way to the door he didn't want to walk through.

"Please just get some sleep, Phil." Dan replied, hushed, yet concerned.

"I'll try, but only if you do."

"Ugh, fine."


	3. like last night

Phil didn't have a problem with Dan's sudden clingy ways. In fact, he sort of enjoyed it, but he didn't enjoy the cause of it. He felt horrible for his best friend. He wished Dan could have it easier. Phil often wondered why such a beautiful person received such bad treatment from his own parents, and the universe in general. He deserved a sound mind, with little problems and happiness that he could wallow in. Unfortunately, there was nothing Phil could possibly do to take away Dan's struggles. He felt helpless, like nothing he did would make a difference. Everything seemed to just slip through his fingers.

Dan was struggling: sometimes Phil saw it, and sometimes he didn't. It was becoming more of the latter, and he blamed himself for it. He wanted to notice when he was slipping away into his own mind, but no matter how badly he wanted it, there was nothing he could change. Powerless.

Still, no matter the circumstances of it all, he tried. Phil did everything he could to be there at all times. He didn't care what he had to sacrifice for Dan's wellbeing. He would honestly do anything for him to feel okay, and that scared him.

Phil wasn't losing himself. He was emotionally strong, so he knew he could fight off just about anything. Dan wasn't the same. He was quite frankly the opposite; the way he let every emotion constantly be felt in copious amounts. Phil wasn't emotionless, just not a fan of feeling in depth. Growing up with Dan taught him a lot over the years.

The stress hadn't eaten away at him, yet. He was waiting for the day it all came crashing down, because although he was strong, he couldn't go on forever. Nobody could; humans are built to only last a short while. Everyone has an expiration date, per say. One day, an unsure amount of time away, would be the day he'd break. God, he was so scared.

Phil left Dan's house and went home that Sunday night with weird, foreign thoughts clouding his head. Dan was beautifully entangled with him and it felt oddly satisfying. Everything felt safe, like nothing would harm either of them right then and there. He began to miss him when he got home, and climbed into his own bed.

And he promised Dan he'd get some sleep. He somehow predicted that it would be difficult. He was correct. The sound of silence ate away at him. His mind wouldn't stop playing his fresh memory of being so close with Dan. Sleeping wasn't easy, that he knew for sure.

Phil thought about getting online for a little while. He decided not to, though, since that would be a sure fire way to lose every hour of sleep that remained. He took a deep breath and tried to think about other things; nothing came to mind that wasn't related to Dan in some way.

He cursed his mind for being so invasive. It always had a way of thinking itself into a vacuum: everything devoid of sense, yet so inherently there. He hated it. It all felt like suffocation, slow and agonizing as all the images played before him. Dan was everything and Phil was reluctant to accept that.

Sometime during his struggle to think of something else, his body gave in to slumber. Phil didn't dream that night, and he was a bit thankful. No dream at all is better than a nightmare.

-

That next morning proved to be a headache in itself. He couldn't seem to get himself out of bed. Everything felt unfulfilling. Phil wanted the entire universe to work on helping Dan, not continuing on in all it's uselessness. What he would do for things to feel okay again.

School was no different, just useless knowledge filling his head to the brim. His grades were great, but he knew it didn't actually matter. He wanted to be someone, and put his creative mind to wonderful uses. Phil wanted to create for the rest of his life. Sadly, that most likely wasn't going to be the case. He tried so hard not to be pessimistic about it, but it was hard when all his life was spent being told to get a real job. He didn't fucking want one of those; he wanted a career.

YouTube wasn't exactly a stable job. Sure, he earned a little bit of pocket change from the ads on his videos. It was nothing major; nothing to make a career out of, even though that's what he wanted. Life wasn't fair, that he knew.

Phil let his mind wander in all of his classes, occasionally checking his texts. Dan was rather quiet, and he instinctively got worried. He said good morning to him, and he said it back, but that was three hours ago. A lot can happen in three hours, especially in high school.

Dan was busy playing the part of okay, or something that resembled okay. He didn't know anymore. Focusing was getting harder, and he ended up spending most of his day somewhere else entirely in his head. It's not that he forgot about Phil, it's that he didn't want to put him through more stress. He could tell it was wearing on him.

So they sat together at lunch, at their lonely table for two in the cafeteria. Phil asked about his day, and Dan said it was alright. He told half a lie, and the conversation was dry. Neither of them felt it necessary at all times, anyway. They felt comfortable in each other's presence. Still, Phil couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't quite right.

They spent the rest of the day apart, and sitting in classrooms full of people they didn't care to know the names of. They didn't matter, and soon, they really wouldn't. The year was nearly over, and they both only had one more year after that.

Phil walked home and felt so drained of creativity. He yearned for something, anything to inspire him. He had recently started keeping a notebook to exercise his other creative muscles, but it turned into a mess of half finished poems about sleep. That was one thing he never thought he'd do, and yet, he was doing it.

Change used to be the bane of his existence. Now, he wasn't so sure what was anymore.

He wanted to go somewhere inspiring, so he took it upon himself to grab his notebook and a pen he hoped would work, and walked outside. He also grabbed his phone and turned it on vibrate, just in case. Phil wasn't exactly sure where he'd go.

The path to his destination fabricated before him, and it felt nice to not plan it. He thought about going to the park, but he wanted to go somewhere he knew people wouldn't be. The familiar houses started to end, and he was considering turning back. That was until he saw the cemetery, with it's defaced headstones and wrought iron gate with matching fencing. Things like that always intrigued, yet terrified him.

Phil felt his feet direct him to the cemetery before he realized what he was doing. He felt weird, like he wasn't supposed to be there.

It felt slightly eerie as he walked through the open gates. It wasn't dark yet, it was cloudy and rain was coming. Phil insisted to himself that he wasn't scared, not even when his chest started to feel weighted. The air felt so hard to filter through his lungs.

The sound of the cars driving past slowly became more distant. He felt isolated; alone with vulnerable skin. Danger was pulsing through his veins, and maybe he liked it. He kept on the paved pathway that was wide enough for a car. As he walked, he began to see that it lead to a circular path with a big, beautiful tree in the middle. It's leaves were growing back, giving it a softer look.

Conveniently, there was a little bench underneath the tree. Phil approached it with plenty of caution, somehow fearing that it would jump out at him. Taking back his previous thoughts, he inwardly admit that he was scared. He sat down, looking around for something that would give him an excuse to start running away from the dreary place. He began to question why he was even there. Perhaps it wasn't such a good idea.

With his heart pumping loud in his chest, Phil took out his notebook from his jacket's pocket. He tried to relax himself, and remind himself how silly he was being. Nothing would happen, it was all in his head. The rain started as Phil wrote in his journal.

"he is not my burden weight,  
he is effortless and airy;  
unlike here, where the  
corpses lay buried and  
the memories fade.  
I wish he were here to  
share this bench with  
me, I wouldn't feel so  
alone and vulnerable.  
I am scared. I want to  
go and forget about  
this, but never him."

Focusing on writing made his heart slow, though it didn't change the awareness of his surroundings he couldn't chase. The seventeen year old felt sick to his stomach with anticipation. He wished he wasn't so afraid. His mind taunted him with flashes of sounds and mental images from bad horror movies he watched a while back. He remembered them so well, too well. Every ounce of regret Phil's body held lead him to decide to never watch one of those again.

It was getting dark, so Phil closed his journal and left. The walk out was spent desperately trying to control his breathing. He kept Dan in mind the entire time, sort of like a shield to ward off the bad. He willed his legs to keep walking, fearing they'd freeze if anything happened. When he heard sounds from the road once again, he breathed out the breath he forgot he was holding in.

Phil felt his phone vibrate against his leg. He honestly forgot he had it with him, being all caught up in the adrenaline rush that was visiting a cemetery in the evening, alone.

From: Dan / 7:59pm  
how was your day? sorry if I seemed genuinely disinterested in conversation today, it wasn't such a great day for me. that sounds a lot like an excuse. I'm sorry.

Phil absentmindedly frowned to himself. Dan was too apologetic when it came to having problems. He felt like he had to apologize for simply existing.

To: Dan / 8:00 pm  
my day was alright. stop apologizing for everything. you know I understand. do you need anything? please let me help if I can.

From: Dan / 8:02 pm  
I don't even know if I need anything. I don't want to deal with this anymore.

Phil opened the message as soon as he arrived home a few minutes later, and his heart sunk. What did Dan mean by that? He didn't know, and his mind was making awful conclusions.

To: Dan / 8:06 pm  
please don't hurt yourself. I'm here. what don't you want to deal with?

From: Dan / 8:07 pm  
living with this messed up head. I feel worthless.

To: Dan / 8:09 pm  
you're fucking not, Dan. I wish you didn't have to deal with this, you don't deserve it.

From: Dan / 8:09pm  
I wish you were here right now, like last night.


	4. coming clean

Perhaps the rain became pleasant to young Dan, but only after the worst of everything else. It was a pleasant experience: only after the constant neglect from his parents, the barely there sense of family, and his lack of friends who cared. Seemingly, the sky cried for him, and it made him feel special. He wasn't one for self pity, so he pretended that the weather could do it for him.

He grew fond of the way the droplets of water beaded up on his arms and joined with other ones. They ran down his skin, despite the goosebumps in their path. Dan always admired their skilled teamwork and determination.

He also admired how the trees moved back and forth with the wind; so easily swayed, yet still holding their ground. The dark sky complimented them, no matter what season it was. Summer was his favorite season. Something about the humid air was oddly comforting, and he thought the trees looked much prettier with all their leaves.

Dan never liked the summer lightning, though. Colorful and ruthless; it cracked through the sky like an explosion, and it frightened him to the bone. Loud noises were his least favorite thing, his youthful mind reckoned. He feared that it would strike him in all it's glowing fiery one day. He hoped that the comfort of humidity would protect him from it.

The colors of the world never failed to amaze him. He spent hours letting his eyes fixate upon the things around him, and the way the colors seemed to wrap around everything. Kind of like a blanket. That thought offered him reassurance to help him through all the bad things. Dan took every ounce of it he could, it was scarce where he lived. All his life was spent walking on eggshells; careful and doubtful.

His bed felt reassuring, but the rest of his house wasn't so much. Dan wasn't allowed in most of the rooms. His parents thought he'd fuck everything up; he was just curious. He liked it best when they were asleep, since they couldn't be cruel to him if they were asleep. On weekend nights, he would stay up and draw pictures. They were mostly of the landscapes he saw behind his lids when he closed his eyes.

Sometimes, Dan had dreams that made the bad aspects of his life even more horrifying. They showed him being locked out of his house forever; his parents never letting him back in, no matter the amount of times his small fist pounded on the door. He cried, and cried, and cried. He cried until he ran out of tears to cry in those dreams. Then, the monsters would shape themselves out of the sky and come to get him. They wanted to take him away.

He always woke up just before they were about to reach him. Waking up in the middle of the night alone was another thing that Dan loathed. It was a relief that the dream never continued, but the aura in the room afterwards was just as bad. He couldn't wrap his mind around how awful it was to jolt awake with his heart beating out of his chest. Along with the silence, it was truly unbearable.

Those nights he laid in bed, hidden underneath the covers with a small hole for breathing. He felt safer that way. His mind created images of the monsters; dark and dangerous. They wanted to hurt him, and Dan wasn't too young to figure that out. Somehow, it was so much worse when he knew there was nothing there. He was too young to feel so insane.

Dan told his best friend, Phil, about the nightmares. He conveniently left out the part about his parents putting him outside if he bothered them too much. Never telling anyone seemed like a good idea to him at the time. Besides, he didn't want Phil to stop being friends with him because of it. Phil was all he had.

Little did Dan know, Phil wouldn't leave, even if he told him every dark secret he held inside his head.

When Dan explained the nightmares with his childlike vocabulary, Phil listened to his best friend attentively. He decided to offer him a sleepover at his house, somewhat hoping that it would take the nine year old's mind off of it temporarily. They always had a lot of fun when they were together, anyway.

Part of him knew that there was something very wrong with Dan, something that he didn't know. The way he spoke as if he was trying to keep a secret was his first hint. But, Phil's parents taught him not to ask invasive questions, so he let it go. He didn't want to upset his one true friend.

So young Phil did indeed let it go, allowing his suspicions to slip between the cracks of daylight in the walls of his brain. He always thought Dan's parents were very nice people.

-

Phil found out when they were both thirteen. Dan had let it slip, it was completely by accident. It's not like it really mattered anyway, since his parents stopped locking him outside when he bothered them. He started getting sent to his room instead, which he was grateful for. The winter's were only getting more harsh every year.

"So, what's your favorite memory?" Phil asked. He had paused the game they were playing, seeing that Dan was becoming disinterested.

Dan glanced down at his hands that held the controller. "Why are you asking me this question?"

Phil shrugged. "I'm bored, I don't know. Wanna play twenty questions?"

"I don't think that's how you play it. Don't you have to think of an object and have someone ask twenty questions to guess what it is?" Dan started to laugh, and looked up at his best friend. He was so used to this, just them in their own little world. They understood each other.

Phil laughed as well, suddenly aware of the contagiousness of Dan's laughter. "Oh well, whatever. You didn't answer my question!" He couldn't stop smiling as the words left his mouth.

Dan stopped laughing and put down the controller, turning to face Phil. "My favorite memory is probably my tenth birthday. There wasn't anything super special about it...it was just nice. My parents were actually nice to me that day."

Thirteen year old Dan hadn't thought much of the last sentence he uttered, until Phil's face contorted with confusion. He realized what he said, and couldn't tell if he regretted it or not.

"W-What do you mean...by that? I thought you had good parents. They're always really nice when I'm around." Phil didn't understand what he was hearing from Dan. He was scared to know the truth behind those mindless words.

Dan sighed, and decided not to panic. He wanted to play it down as much as he could, so Phil wouldn't get upset. He had to pretend it didn't even matter, even though it wasn't easy to lie to Phil.

"My parents...they ignored me a lot growing up. Like, they didn't pay very much attention to me ever...and when I tried to get their attention, they...never mind."

Phil's eyes went wide, and he tried not to blow everything out of proportion and frighten Dan. "They what? What did they do to you?" Phil asked, his voice hushed so his own parents wouldn't come downstairs and tell them to go to sleep.

Although Dan knew Phil just cared a lot, he still felt like he couldn't tell him. He had no choice. The question was out there, and Phil's mind was jumping to all kinds of conclusions. There was no backing out.

Dan looked away from his best friend, finding it nearly impossible to meet his eyes. "They p-put me outside...when I tried to get their attention. Or if I bothered t-them. It's no big deal, I got...used to it after a few years. They don't do it anymore, they just send me to my room now."

Phil's eyes started to brim with tears. They made his vision awfully blurry as he looked at Dan. He didn't look very affected by the words that just left his mouth. Dan felt numb when he thought about it, and even more numb when he spoke of it. It all felt like a bittersweet nightmare. None of it felt particularly real, especially not with the rapid passing of time.

"Are you...still gonna be friends with me after this?" Dan questioned after the silence got more stubborn. His chest felt deflated, and he concluded that he didn't want to talk about it ever again past that night.

Thirteen year old Dan got the wrong idea, because Phil was stunned into silence for a totally different reason.

"D-Dan...my god. I won't ever leave you. I'm sorry. I-I don't even know what else to say. Don't say it's okay, it's not. You should have told someone. Anyone." Phil scooted closer to his best friend, who wouldn't break eye contact with the carpet in Phil's living room.

Dan finally gave in and looked up at Phil, who was so much closer now. He took a second to process the words he said, and what they meant. He was surprised to find out that Phil wasn't freaked out. The visions he had in his head of losing him when his secret was told weren't the same as the real thing.

"I was scared. I still am. I didn't want them to find out that I said anything. They'd be so much worse." Dan muttered. His thoughts were becoming spoken words, and he wasn't sure if he liked it.

Phil managed to will the tears away, but that didn't change how upset he still felt. "I just-I can't believe I didn't...notice sooner. Can you promise me that you won't keep things from me anymore? I really want to help. You know you can trust me, right?"

Dan was overwhelmed by all of what Phil said. He wanted to write it all down so he could contemplate what everything meant, and why it was said. He needed answers.

"Yeah...I promise. And I trust you. Just, uh, don't say anything. Alright?" Dan replied with sudden tired eyes. He wondered what would be made of that night in the future; where it's place of importance would be on their timeline.

"I won't. I swear."

-

A couple years later, Dan was about to turn sixteen, and he felt so hopeless. He felt like he hadn't accomplished anything while he was fifteen. Everything was paused, it seemed; put on halt for another day, another month, another year. He wasn't exactly sure. Life was continuously disappointing.

His sexuality was a complete blur. He wanted to be sure of it, not just play a guessing game. Dan knew it was something like a spectrum, and that different people fall on different places on this spectrum. But, he had no knowledge of the points and their unique names.

Phil was feeling similarly, with just as much confusion and distress over the same principle as Dan. As much as it seemed like it to other people, they were not the same person. They were just so intertwined that it was difficult to differentiate between the two sometimes. People who knew them well could tell, but most could not. They often got mistaken for brothers, which both found hilariously amusing.

Dan was almost halfway to seventeen when he felt like he could pinpoint exactly where he was on the spectrum.

"Phil, do you ever...think about your place on the spectrum?" He asked Phil as they walked out of school, headed home for the weekend.

Phil was momentarily confused, until it clicked and he recalled what Dan was referring to. "Yeah, I guess. The past few months I have been. Why, are you too?"

"Y-Yeah...I just, I feel like it's something I should have figured out by now." Dan subtly frowned to himself, glancing down at his feet.

Phil noticed Dan's sudden change in demeanor. He always did; he could read him like an open book.

"You don't, though. Some people don't figure that out until they're older and more mature. Don't feel like you have to now. There's always time." Phil replied, as he looked over at the side of Dan's face. He had such a beautiful side profile, he thought.

Dan sighed, "True. I'm just confused and it's stressing me out. I have an idea of what I am, but what if I'm wrong?"

"You can't be wrong, Dan. The only way you can be wrong is if you repress your feelings for someone." Phil spoke hypocritically of his past self, since he did it before. He learned from it; that's all that mattered in the moment.

"Okay. I think I'm demisexual." The words left Dan's mouth almost impulsively, for he couldn't bare to keep it in anymore.

Phil smiled, "Pansexual."

It felt okay; coming clean.


	5. the side effects of perspective

"I've never seen you this happy." Phil concluded while observing how Dan was so happily engrossed in the movie they were watching together. It was called Office Space, and it was one of their favorite movies to watch when they were together. It never failed to make them laugh.

Dan turned his head towards Phil's sudden interjection, and smiled. "Really?" He asked, wondering if he was just saying that, or if he was being serious.

Phil took a second to admire Dan's smile, and the way his dimples framed it. It was pure art, he thought. "Well yeah, pretty much. You just seem...content. It's nice."

Dan could tell Phil meant it, and he began to think about all the times he'd felt genuinely happy. All the truly happy memories he could recall were made with Phil. He forgot about how much he was enjoying the movie, as he relived the memories inside his head instead. Just thinking about them made him feel like he was on top of the fucking world.

When Dan didn't say anything for a minute or so, Phil scooted closer to him on Dan's living room sofa. Dan was rather thankful that his parents were gone for the night. He didn't want them to point out how close he and Phil were getting; fearing dreaded confrontation. He had a hard enough time admitting it to himself, let alone the two people who made his life miserable more times than not. He didn't want them to know anything about his relationships at all. They didn't deserve to know.

"You alright?" Phil inquired, noticing how Dan wasn't looking at the TV anymore, but the wall instead. He also had a strange look on his face, like he was somehow far away in the vast expansion of his mind.

Dan heard his voice and snapped out of his daydream. Or was it even a daydream? He didn't know. "Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking about memories."

"Are you sure?" Phil was tired of asking questions just as much as Dan was tired of answering them, but he had to check in on his best friend constantly. He wanted to do everything he could to help him out.

Dan sighed, still content. "Yes, Phil. Nothing is wrong. I promise I'd tell you if there was."

"Okay." Phil chuckled lightly, turning back to the movie once more. He was all too aware of how their thighs were pressed up against each other. The movie didn't seem so important to him after that.

Despite Phil's obvious lack of attention paid to the movie, they continued to watch it. Dan was gradually leaning into Phil more and more, becoming a dead weight against his best friend. When his head made contact with Phil's shoulder, he couldn't help but smile. He lived for moments like that; moments when Dan was in an environment he felt he could be himself in. There was no one else in the house to judge them and their ways. When they were alone together, it felt beautifully authentic.

Phil's interpretation of the situation was rather wrong, but he didn't pay any mind to thinking it over again. Dan just happened to be so tired that he wasn't fully aware of his actions. He wasn't normally exhausted on Saturday nights, that's why he didn't expect to doze off like that; nearly three quarters of the way through the movie. He didn't even remember being tired in the first place, or putting his head on Phil's shoulder.

Maybe it was a subconscious thing that he wouldn't understand, Dan figured. Putting that aside, his mind was becoming more predictable, and he was grateful for that. By chance, the disorder could be becoming more constant; not getting any worse, but not getting any better. Dan wanted to believe it would get better eventually, or at least be easier to manage. It was evident that it would become much worse before that could happen.

Phil was half asleep himself when he felt Dan's movement against his shoulder. His steady breath was dangerously close to Phil's neck, and he wasn't too keen on the thoughts that were flowing through his head as that happened. He didn't want to think them. He didn't have a choice. His mind wandered freely from thought to thought, making him think things he was reluctant to ponder.

Dan sat upright on the couch, Phil's eyes following him. He stretched and turned his neck, as he slept in an uncomfortable position. He turned to look at Phil.

"What time is it?" He asked. His voice showed no evidence of still being sleepy.

Phil yawned, leaning forward and searching the coffee table for his phone. "It's 12:30."

Dan felt slightly disoriented after his short nap. His sleep schedule wasn't the most structured anyway, so it wouldn't throw him off. He didn't care about that, he just didn't like sleeping for a few hours and then waking up, or repeating that cycle. Something about it made him odd in the head.

Phil managed to get up to turn off the TV, which had gone black since they both fell asleep. The couch seemed to suck him in.

"Did you fall asleep too?" Dan asked, as Phil plopped back down next to him. He seemed pretty tired still.

"For a little bit, yeah. You should go to bed." He replied, while messing around with his phone. The brightness of the screen stung his tired eyes.

Dan made a face. "I'm not leaving you down here alone. There could be...monsters or something."

Phil looked up, and let out a weak  
laugh. "Seriously?"

"It's dark! You don't know what could happen." Dan knew he was being utterly ridiculous, and yet he didn't stop himself. It was easier for him to make excuses than to tell the truth. He wasn't too inclined to tell Phil why he actually didn't want to leave him downstairs alone.

"Alright, I'll go with you then. If you want." Phil offered, knowing that Dan would be all for the suggestion. He was predictable, most times.

Dan smiled, suddenly feeling the weight of sleep upon his eyelids. "Please."

Phil smiled in return, and went to retrieve his bag while Dan headed upstairs before him. He mumbled something about having to brush his teeth.

Dan didn't feel right. His head felt too big for his body, like it would explode any second. As he was washing his mouth out after brushing his teeth, he looked up and the mirror didn't appear to be there. He saw trees. They were all bare, and tangled together. It was a forest.

Dan blinked several times, but to no avail did they disappear. He started to look around him, and everything was turning black. Looking up, he saw very dim stars. Soon enough, they became lines, as if he was running as fast as he could. The trees were swaying wildly; everything blurring. The darkness of what appeared to be nighttime made them look menacing. Dan was afraid the ends of the branches would materialize into hands and grab hold of him. He didn't want to be torn apart.

He frantically grabbed for anything, and the entire vision faded when his hands caught the bathroom countertop. The mirror showed his reflection when he looked up this time, and not the dark forest. Dan was relieved; his heart continued to pound in his chest unnaturally. He never hallucinated before. He wondered if that's what it really was, or if it was something else entirely.

He must have made a lot of noise in the process, because Phil was knocking on the bathroom door. "Dan, what's going on?"

Dan opened the door, reluctant to tell him what had just happened. "I...I don't know."

"Did you have an episode?" Phil was genuinely confused, and didn't mean to sound invasive. He didn't even know if he used the proper term. All he wanted was to help his best friend.

Dan stood there, trying to figure out what exactly happened. "It was...I can't even describe it. I-"

"Don't worry about it. Let's go to bed." Phil stopped him, seeing as he was too shocked and out of breath to continue. He turned off the bathroom light and placed one of his hands on the small of Dan's back, leading him to his bedroom. He missed Dan's tiny gasp from the sudden contact.

Dan climbed into his bed, with Phil following after him. This had become so normal for them: the reassurance, the coddling, the touching, everything. If they had someone to judge, they would think it unnecessary and very questionable. Dan and Phil thought nothing of it. It just happened, and there wasn't any room for questioning. They were attached, both physically and emotionally.

Phil let Dan curl himself into his body. The combination of their shared body heat and the excess of blankets made them both cozy warm, meaning they were bound to fall asleep in no time. Dan's head rested on Phil's collarbone. His face was hidden almost entirely between the blankets and his best friend. Phil's arms found their way around Dan's small frame, pulling him closer than usual. He knew how much he needed it. His head was lying atop Dan's, almost as if he was sheltering him from the world itself.

And how Phil wished he could shelter Dan from everything cruel in the world. Unfortunately, he could not shelter him from his biggest hazard, which was himself.

As they laid there, tangled together like summer vines, Dan played the fresh memory of the hallucination over in his head. He knew it wasn't real, though it felt like he was trapped inside it at the time. The mind can create perspectives with such depth that everything about visions can be unmistakably real in the eyes of a person. That was Dan's issue: he was caught up in what his mind was showing him. After all, he couldn't simply change his perspective. He was stuck with his own for life.

Perhaps the forest was an analogy for something. Dan constantly felt trapped in his own skin, just like he felt trapped in his vision of the forest. Evidently, he was running in his hallucination. Was it because he wanted nothing more than to run away from himself? He wanted answers, and that was something he wouldn't get unless he found them himself. Maybe he would stumble upon them, somehow or someway.

He thought about it for awhile, long enough that he lost track of time. He wondered if Phil was asleep yet.

"Phil?" Dan whispered, not looking to frighten him.

Phil stirred a bit. "Yeah?"

Dan felt the vibration of Phil's voice against his hands, which were innocently pressed against his chest. "Thanks for being here and all. I really appreciate it."

Phil's hands returned to the small of Dan's back, but this time, they slipped under his jumper. He muttered a reply, "I always will be."

Dan smiled sleepily at those words, feeling a warm presence in his chest that he couldn't identify. Phil always found a way to calm him; his energy was every bit delicate and radiant. He felt incredibly lucky to have him in his life.

Dan abandoned the memories of the hallucination, and fell asleep soundly in Phil's arms. As far as he was concerned, in that moment, he was safe. Nothing could hurt him, not even his own head.


	6. why can't I be you?

Both teenagers slept peacefully through the night together. The silence of the otherwise empty house was strangely comforting, more so for Dan than Phil. He didn't feel like he could be himself when his parents were around. They were always watching him; analyzing his every action, and it scared Dan.

He didn't want to know what they thought of him. Whatever it was, it couldn't have been very good. It didn't matter to him, or at least he tried to convince himself that it didn't: because no matter how much he told himself he didn't care, he knew he did a little. That was enough to make him feel like utter shit.

Dan was brought up to never be attention seeking. They taught him toxic levels of self discipline and low expectations. From a distance, he seemed like a normal, happy child. Pretending was too easy for him. Little did the outsiders know, there was just so much underneath that they couldn't see. That's how Dan figured out that normal simply didn't exist, because everyone had things hidden underneath somewhere. No one was exactly who they appeared to be on the outside.

These lessons were so deeply rooted into his mind; he found it hard to break away from them. He tried to stop himself from his ways, but it proved to be more difficult than he anticipated. They were ingrained into his force of habit. It all stayed the exact same, no matter how much effort he put into changing it. Many days, he dwelled on just how exhausting being was.

Phil helped, he helped ease the pressure of daily life for Dan. But, he couldn't save his best friend. He knew that. Saving him wasn't possible. People can't save other people from themselves. They have to want to do it, for nothing but their own personal gain. Even then, it's never guaranteed. Doctors and therapists can't save everyone.

Dan felt himself waking, becoming aware of the world once again, just like every morning. His first thought was to check if Phil was awake. His second was that he couldn't fucking move his limbs, or anything at all. Only his eyes were moveable, and the panic started to set in immediately. His thoughts felt clouded. He was so terrified; stuck lying on his back with his eyes wide, and mouth numb. He couldn't scream.

It seemed to go on forever: his eyes darting back and forth the walls of his room. They were looking darker and darker, then he began to see shadows forming from where the ceiling and the walls meet. He couldn't panic, or do anything at all, except move his eyes. Phil wasn't in his sight. Dan didn't even know if he was in the room or not. He couldn't see or feel him. Just when he thought it would never end, the movement returned to his body in a split second, making him breath a heavy sigh of relief. The seventeen year old quickly sat up in his bed, and felt more relived when he saw Phil fast asleep next to him. Still, that didn't change the heaviness he felt upon his diaphragm.

He had experienced an episode of sleep paralysis. Thinking back, he remembered having something like that happen to him before. He couldn't tell when. Perhaps he forgot; it wasn't such a monumental thing to remember, after all.

The only difference being: he never saw anything quite like those dark shadows in his entire life. It gave him an uneasy feeling, and that feeling traveled throughout his body. He felt as if his every action was being watched somehow. Everything felt treacherous and unsafe.

His breathing must have increased in volume greatly, because Phil stirred and turned around to face him with his eyes half open. Despite being dazed, he recognized the fear on Dan's face, and the way he was sitting up. That urged him to wake up considerably faster than usual.

"Dan, are you okay?" He asked, sitting up as well.

Dan found it difficult to speak at first. He just stared at his hands that were gripping the comforter until he found his voice. "I-I... I don't know."

Phil was confused, "What happened? Bad dream?"

If only it was just a bad dream. The thought of it being nothing but a bad dream sounded so appealing. Dan wished that was the case. It wasn't. There was no going back and changing it. He couldn't forget what he saw; not that quick.

"No, it wasn't." He managed to choke out in the morning stillness. Dan didn't want to tell Phil everything that was happening, due to his constant worrying. He knew he'd understand and do his best to help; he just didn't want it to wear on one more person than necessary. He could handle it himself.

Phil wrapped one of his arms around Dan's middle, as he continued to sit there and look at his hands. He wanted to help, but he couldn't if Dan wouldn't let him in. That was the worst part of it all. Phil didn't want to force Dan to tell him, yet he needed to know, since he was too concerned to let it go.

"What was it then?" Phil asked, weighing his words and hoping Dan would tell him, because he wanted to make it all better somehow. Perhaps he could, if the reality of it didn't come back and hit him with more force each and every time he thought of it.

Dan shivered under Phil's touch in response to his words. "It...was just a sleep paralysis episode. It happens sometimes, it's just a little scary."

"I understand. Still, are you alright? You still seem pretty shaken by it." Phil was skeptical of Dan's downplay of the situation. Phil noticed that he tended to do that a lot now; repress his true feelings about things when he didn't have to. He was horrified by the thought of what Dan could be hiding from him.

"I'm fine. Let's get up and have breakfast." Dan suggested, more to change the subject, if anything.

He knew his mental state wasn't getting any better. He didn't want to think about it; he wanted to forget about it. That was getting hard to do, for the reason that his mind wouldn't let him forget how he suffered. Dan's mind was inverted turmoil, caused by his stubbornness to do anything to help it.

-

"Want to go out for coffee or something?" Phil proposed, seeing as it appeared to be a nice Sunday morning. Dan didn't get outside enough, and it showed.

Dan laughed lightly, looking out the glass of the front door. Spring was in full force. The trees no longer were stripped of their leaves; ceased to look like claws sprouting up from the earth. It made him get the same feeling he got when he was younger. He hated the way the cold felt, how it nipped at his skin so harshly. The warmth of the new season made him feel a little better.

"You're so pretentious." Dan teased, unaware of how much Phil was admiring the reflection of the window glare in his eyes.

Phil gave him a faux look of disgust. "So do you consider everyone that drinks coffee pretentious?"

"Well, yeah. There's just something about caffeine addicts that screams 'I'm so far up my own ass, I'm practically inside out.' Don't know what it is." Dan loved how he was able to joke around with Phil, because his parents were too serious a majority of the time. They weren't very fun at all, but Phil made up for that.

"It's sad, because it's a bit true." Phil said in reply, and asked, "So, are we going or not?"

Dan turned to the stairs, "Yeah, yeah. Let me go make myself look less trashy first."

Phil rolled his eyes. "Shut up. Just shut up-you know you're not bad looking...I know you're not bad looking!" He had tried to save himself with that last sentence, but it came out all wrong.

"Not bad looking, huh? That's it?" Dan turned back around and retorted. God fucking dammit, Phil's tone was hiding something, and it was so easy to identify the presence of. Dan could feel it in the air he breathed.

And Phil had tried to hide his obvious blush, really, he had. It didn't work in the slightest. "You know what I mean! Just...yeah."

Dan said nothing in return, and he didn't need to. He only flashed him a smile; one that wasn't forced. It felt natural.

-

They made it out of Dan's house at quarter to nine in the morning. Dan found himself wondering how the house sounded when it was completely empty. There was always human noise: feet against cold tile, fabric brushing against skin, breaths, pulses. Too many things like that would disrupt the perfect noiseless space. He wished he could be present there, but without the industrial sounds existing created. Like many things he wanted to do, it wasn't possible.

He made an attempt at pushing those thoughts away as he walked with Phil to some coffee shop he assumed he had never been to. It was only a few blocks away from his house, which made him question a lot of things. Why hadn't he been there before? Why didn't he know his small town like the back of his hand? Surely, that was what most people would do over the years they become familiar with a place; not even by choice. It happened gradually. Dan found that he didn't recognize most of his surroundings as he walked alongside Phil.

Despite the severity of his concerns, he said nothing about them. It had become second nature to him: the way he subconsciously repressed most things. It was anything but healthy, and it would get so much worse before it would have a chance at getting any better. He hid things from himself, by accident. There were some things Dan wished he knew and could figure out.

Phil wasn't exactly oblivious to all of this. In fact, he was beginning to catch on. He noticed how Dan's eyes flickered upon the rows of houses in a strange manner. He appeared to be studying them. His vision dragged across the reflections of the sky in the third story windows mindlessly, his mind in a place entirely it's own. Phil often thought about what it would be like to be Dan. Perhaps being him was the only way to understand him, and sadly, it just wasn't possible.

There weren't many people on the sidewalk, since it was a bit early for a Sunday. Most residents of their small town were still cooped up in their houses, probably making breakfast or checking their emails like normal people. Dan and Phil weren't so normal. They didn't believe in normality at all.

"It's so nice out today." Phil decided to interject the silence, getting bored of it after a few blocks. "Don't you think?"

Dan definitely was not paying attention, and Phil's sudden conversation caught him off guard at first. "Yeah, it is."

And they both loathed small talk, but Phil didn't want to lose Dan to his own head for the rest of the way there. He had his impulses, and trying to keep Dan on his toes was one of them, for sure.

When they arrived, it wasn't as empty as they would've liked. Still, they considered it doable. Phil did the ordering, of course, since Dan was more socially inept than he was. He didn't mind; he wouldn't want to purposely put Dan in a situation that made him uncomfortable. After all, Phil was the one to suggest it, so it was only fair.

They both got some kind of sugary and overpriced coffee beverage, along with two oversized muffins. Phil had ended up selecting their seats, since Dan was looking rather disoriented in what he was guessing to be a foreign place. He still wasn't sure if he'd been there previously, and figuring it out was just too much work.

"You know, I still can't remember if I've ever been here before or not." Dan admitted, and okay, maybe saying it out loud helped ease his mind, but he wasn't going to admit that. He knew that he was fully capable of keeping things to himself and working them out on his own.

Phil stirred his coffee absentmindedly. "You'll figure it out, give it time. It'll come back to you, right?" He found himself asking if he would remember later, because he was scared: scared that one day, his best friend would forget more than just places he'd been.

Dan looked away, and awkwardly crossed his legs underneath the table. "I-I guess. I hope I remember."

Phil knew he didn't care extensively about the coffee shop and whether or not he'd been to it before. He knew it was the principle of it all; the fact that he wasn't remembering things like he should have. That urged Phil to worry so much more than he did initially. He wanted to believe everything was fine with Dan, yet most things weren't. The thought of it was unsettling at best, and fuck, Phil wished he could do something more.

They finished their breakfast surrounded by the ambient sounds of the shop. People came and went, workers took orders, and everything continued around them. The little corner where they sat seemed to become their own world.

-

"Hey, Troye, see those two guys over there?" Connor said in a hushed voice, despite being out of earshot of the aforementioned two. He had always been overly cautious and afraid of doing the wrong thing. Perhaps he cared a little too much about other's feelings, too.

Troye slowed down next to Connor, and followed his gaze. His eyes were met with two considerably tall teenagers, or at least they appeared to be teenagers to him. One had brown hair with a fringe that barely reached his chin. The other had black hair, and it fell upon his cheek. Troye's couldn't believe how well they mirrored each other. They fit in a way that he didn't know how to put into words.

"Wow, it's like looking at a person and their reflection in the mirror." Troye awed, trying to lower his voice as well. They were on opposite sides of the street, but there wasn't much traffic at that time. He didn't want them to be weirded out by two strange psychology students who wouldn't quit talking about them.

Connor beamed, "Exactly! You don't see people like that everyday. I wonder what they are to each other."

"Don't start shipping them or anything, Connor, god. They could be brothers for all we know." Troye informed his friend, because he wasn't about to let him ship two brothers. He knew he was fucked up, hell, they both were. However, he wasn't about to condone that.

By now, they had passed them on the other side of the street. They were completely out of sight. Luckily, the two guys didn't notice how Troye and Connor were watching them. They were too caught up in conversation with one another to pay any mind to it.

"I hope we see them again sometime. They seemed like really interesting people." Connor said after a few paces of silence.

Troye nodded, "Yeah, me too."


	7. losing track, losing sleep

Dan didn't think of himself as much of a malingerer, so when he started to lose track of the places he'd been, and where he was at all, he started to worry. He hated the awful realization, and the way it made him feel so ignorant of himself. He wanted to know what exactly was going on, but with pinpointing the issue, there is always acceptance needed. The seventeen year old wasn't positive that he wanted to accept the things that were happening, let alone give them a name.

Dan changed his mind a lot. Perhaps it was just too easy for him to pretend, since he could fluctuate with the blink of an eye.

Surely, he wasn't actually pretending; everything was becoming worse and he certainly wasn't making it that way on purpose. He wasn't at fault anywhere, as far as he was concerned, except for the fact that he was resisting help. Stuck: that's what he was, more than anything.

It wasn't like anyone offered it to him. He internalized his concerns almost entirely. Phil knew of what was going on with him, but he didn't know everything that he should've. Most of the information and occurrences were kept hidden away from Phil. The feeling that he could manage it on his own overpowered the motivation to get professional help, and though Dan thought he was doing the right thing, he wasn't. He was hurting himself more and more each day by neglecting his symptoms; unaware of what he was getting himself into.

So he carried on, waiting for nothing in particular. There couldn't be a cure to something he wasn't even sure he had, despite quite a few of the symptoms being present. Dan didn't seem to notice how his symptoms suddenly heightened after his discovery of the disorder's existence, and perhaps that was something he should've paid attention to.

Awareness of yourself isn't always easy when you soak up all the facts; the things you read when you're searching for answers. Sometimes it's by complete accident, and others, it's pure intent.

Dan wasn't sure what he had done. He did know that he wished he hadn't done it. He felt as if everything was spiraling out of control. It remained destructive and dizzying, as it ruined all things in it's path. The monsters had only been amplified, not tamed by the added knowledge like he thought would eventually happen. Nothing was going as planned, simply because Dan had no plan in the first place. He relied on the thought of everything becoming manageable.

And that killed him.

Dan never thought about dying in depth before everything started happening. From an outsider's point of view, he had things to live for, no doubt about it. His future looked so bright in the eyes of someone who didn't experience his life directly. It wasn't awful, just lacking in some areas. He had Phil, his lifeline, or something like that. He had a little bit of talent as well, if making art in his bedroom counted as talent. All he wanted was to be someone important. Dan wanted to create for a living, and he wanted to be happy while doing so.

However, his dreams were only such. Dying, to him, seemed much more appealing after thinking of the future. Everything looked so meaningless after contemplation. All the choices he made, all the memories he kept, and all the life he had ahead of him could easily appear as nothing important within a matter of seconds. He often wondered why he hadn't died already.

Phil was a strong reason why, he reckoned. He didn't mean everything; he didn't create the universe or align the planets. In contrast, he had been important enough to be on Dan's mind most of the time. Phil thought of Dan quite a lot as well, and they were strangely unaware of this reciprocated feeling.

Lines were blurring for them both. Physical boundaries weren't a thing anymore. They were never really there, but as of recent, physical touch was getting more abundant. There were weekends the two would lie in bed together for the better part of a day. Dan would curl himself into Phil as close as he could possibly get, facing him with his head on Phil's chest. He would wrap his arms tightly around Dan, making sure he felt safe. Hours passed like that, and sometimes Phil ran his hands up and down Dan's back underneath his shirt. Other times, he brushed Dan's messy hair from his forehead and pressed a kiss there. The skin on skin contact with someone so special felt soothing for the both of them. They wanted to stay like that forever: wrapped up in each other's warmth and hidden away from the harshness of the world.

It was a shame that it simply wasn't possible. Contentment only lasts so long, until it must be traded for other states, like detached misery. Maybe they were too close, and maybe it didn't even matter.

Judgements didn't matter, because they were one another's safe place to fall when everything outside their world became a little too much, and they weren't going to trade that for anything. Neither could imagine life without their supportive inside world they built up from nothing.

-

Dan heard the bell ring throughout the entirety of the school building, and he felt an odd sense of nervousness as he gathered his things. It almost felt like anticipation. It hadn't been a very good day. Then again, when had it ever been a good day? What could be categorized as a good day? Dan had a lot of questions, none of which would be answered.

He had been thinking all too much, about things that weren't significant enough, yet they still demanded his attention. Focus was given to all the wrong things, and Dan hated being wrong more than most things. He wanted perfection and order; everything scripted out like a play. It seemed that his playwright was a drunk, or maybe just absent entirely.

As he made his way out into the semi crowded hallway, he was hit with a lack of familiarity. Dan inhaled sharply, feeling something that was lacking a definition. He should've been used to the lacking; he should've been used to a lot of things.

The hall seemed so far away, despite him being in it. He felt the burden of disorientation grab hold of him; dragging him down with all it's crushing weight. He stood frozen in the hallway for a few seconds. Dan forgot where he had to be. It simply left his mind, with no sign of returning. He wanted to shatter into pieces and disappear. People were beginning to stare as they made their way to their classes.

What he didn't know was that Phil could see him from where he sat in his classroom. He had just sat down, and began to organize his things at his temporary desk. He happened to glance outside in the hallway, since the teacher left the door open by mistake.

His eyes were met with the back of Dan, who was standing in the middle of the hallway by himself. Phil was surprised to see him at first, but then he realized that Dan was supposed to be in a classroom as well. The bell was about to ring once again, signaling the beginning of a new period: the one that Dan was going to be late to if he didn't get moving quickly enough.

Seconds passed, and Phil felt the need to step in. Dan wasn't ever late to his classes. He may have skipped school some days, but he never skipped specific classes. Hell, he certainly never stood in the middle of the hallway alone before class either.

Phil easily noticed that was out of character for his best friend. It had remained increasingly concerning the more he sat there. He knew he had to do something, and fast. In his seventeen years of life, he'd never mastered the art of making quick decisions. This was entirely different; it involved Dan, who was awful at handling the free falls that were occurring. There was no choice to be made.

The bell sounded. Phil tried to appear unamused, when really, he was panicking on the inside. He raised his hand, getting mentally prepared to bolt out the door.

His teacher made eye contact with him, and he asked if he could go to the restroom. He felt kinda bad for lying. Phil wasn't too worried about it. No one would find out. His school was rather large, so a lot of the other students didn't even know who he was.

Within seconds, his eyes were met with Dan's. He was visibly panicking, and tears were filling his eyes. He clutched Phil's wrists once they reached one another.

Phil began to lead him down the hall, fighting the urge to hold his hand. He whispered, "Come on, let's get you somewhere else."

Dan's breath was uneven, so he just nodded in response. They walked a few steps down the hallway, and turned when Phil found a bathroom to hide in for a few minutes.

The sound of the door shutting behind them rang in Dan's ears, slicing through the silence he had adapted to. He was getting a headache.

"What's going on?" Phil asked with the slightest bit of noticeable anger in his voice. He wasn't mad, just frustrated. When he thought things were getting better, they only got worse.

Dan took a deep breath, and god, he really didn't want to speak a single word. All he wanted was to be held. "I forgot...where I was going, and I couldn't...remember. I just...fuck."

Phil sighed, suddenly becoming aware of the fact that his time was limited. "You know, I wish I could help. I feel horrible when these things happen, Dan. I really do. You need to do something. And soon. This isn't getting any better." He ran a hand through his black hair, checking it in the mirror before him. Dan's reflection revealed that Phil's words were sinking in. The blank stare he wore was unreadable.

"But I...I'm scared, okay?" Dan started pacing the small room. He hoped no one would decide to walk in now, he didn't need an audience for his mental breakdown.

Phil turned back to face him. "You're scared of help? And all this isn't scaring you? You're not scaring me to death? Dan, please. Just talk to someone. I'm not a doctor. I can't help you like they could."

Dan was shocked to see Phil so angry over something he did, or rather didn't do. He didn't want help. He had convinced himself that he was only going through a rough patch, and that everything would be fine once he got through the worst of it all. Besides, Phil helped a lot more than he gave himself credit for.

"I'm fucking scared of everything. I'm stuck because I can't do anything. I just can't. I feel helpless." Dan was almost yelling, as the tears paved a path on his cheeks for more to come. He was struggling to put sentences together.

Phil stepped closer to Dan. "Let me do something, at least. I'll find a therapist. I'll go with you even. Please, let me help." He was nearly begging, because he wanted it all to stop. The seventeen year old didn't know how much longer he could bare the pressure being put on him everyday. Sooner, rather than later, he was going to crack. There was too much to sort out, and it had to start somewhere.

Dan flinched, despite the fact that Phil's words were spoken softly and weren't in the least bit harsh. He didn't want Phil to do any of that. He wanted to disappear completely, along with all the problems he was too afraid to tamper with.

Phil opened his arms, causing Dan's heartbeat to quicken. He became flustered before him, and hugged him back with his jittery body. He felt emotions; he felt them everywhere, but they were unclear, and there was no doubt that they were stopping him from speaking. Perhaps it was an overload of emotion: choking him without force and evidence. Everything was confusing, and all he wanted was to go home and hide forever.

"We'll talk about this later. Right now, go to the nurse and say you're not feeling well. Try to go home or just hang out there for the rest of the day. Okay?" Phil reassured Dan, his voice muffled against his shoulder. He had to go back to class, but he was hesitant to leave Dan's side.

Dan nodded as he let go of his best friend. He watched him push the door, and slip through, as if nothing was wrong. Dan was envious of that: the way Phil could put up a front to fool everyone into thinking everything was fine. He wasn't good at playing the part of an okay person. Acting proved to be difficult, since every time he tried to pretend, his real emotions always showed through.

He dropped all his things on the floor, and met his reflection in the dirty bathroom mirror. Luckily, no one had come in since he did. Dan knew being there was a risk; he just couldn't seem to leave. He wanted to hide. The hallway was too open, too exposed.

He looked anything but fine on the outside, matching the inside very well. The skin underneath his eyes was colored a faint purple. They appeared bruised to some extent, although Dan didn't remember getting hit by anything. He regarded it had been his sleep pattern, which was becoming a monster in itself. It was an hour here, another there, and maybe three somewhere else. Consistency was long gone.

It took several minutes of mental preparation for Dan to get himself to leave the bathroom. He went to the nurse, like Phil suggested. The lying part wasn't exactly lying, because he actually wasn't feeling the greatest. His head accommodated a dull ache; pulsing through the very place that everything was going wrong. He ended up staying there until dismissal, which he felt grateful for. Tomorrow was another day.

He relied too heavily on tomorrow's, so when tomorrow became the present day, he neglected to do what he said he would. Some called it procrastination at it's finest, Dan called it skillful avoidance.

He dodged the bullets shot from his own gun.


	8. vanilla and pills

"You've been having hallucinations?" Phil asked, shocked into near oblivion upon receiving the knowledge of Dan's hallucinations. He didn't know how he could be so blind to them; he spent a good majority of his time with him. How did those moments slip past him so easily? Guilt nestled itself in his bones with the realization of his inadequate sensing.

Perhaps he wasn't paying enough attention. He pressured himself, so much so that everything came to a grinding halt in his head. There was too much that needed attention, and Phil felt it impossible to keep up. He drove himself mad, and to no benefit. It was too easy to fall behind.

The awareness he tried to keep in check was slipping away; out of his hands and pooling by his feet. It remained taunting, and anything but motivating. He knew he couldn't go on much longer in that way.

Dan curled into himself on Phil's bedroom floor. He was sitting with his knees pulled up to his chest, looking rather self-conscious. His back was against Phil's bed, and he couldn't stop focusing on the sound of a clock ticking in another room. Conveniently, Phil's parents weren't home, and they were alone. But not for much longer; they were running out of time. A couple hundred more ticks of that clock would reveal them to Dan's world of complete self-destruction.

He hated to admit what he just had. It had been his little secret: a self-concealed mess he wasn't managing as well as he thought originally. It hadn't been any worse than it was at that moment. Dan was at the bottom, or what appeared to be the bottom. It didn't seem to go any lower, but his perception was impaired, so it really had the potential to get much worse.

Maybe it would've been easier if he just continued to lie to himself, and never searched for the name of the state he was in. Lies are significantly easier to swallow than the truth, because the truth is like a large pill that simply won't go down without force. Dan just wanted everything to go away: he didn't want to choose between lies and truths. He didn't want to think anymore.

There was silence in place of the talking that Dan was supposed to be doing. Remaining frozen seemed like a better alternative to saying anything at all. He already felt he'd gone too far, and revealed too much in too little time.

To help ease his mind, he glanced around and memorized the placement of objects in Phil's room. He had various house plants sitting on his windowsill, none of which Dan knew the name of. They looked healthy and thriving in the light from the curtain-less window. Camera equipment was haphazardly laid across his desk, as well as notes he made to himself so he wouldn't forget ideas or significant dates. Dan noticed the lack of clothes on the floor. Phil must have straightened up previously.

Phil continued his slow pacing around the room, which was a common indicator that he was on edge. He was waiting for a sound, something to signify that Dan was still okay; that he wasn't dreaming up his confession.

"Dan?" Phil's voice was taut, as he searched for his best friend inside the eyes of the person on his bedroom floor. He stopped pacing for long enough to gather his thoughts, because he was getting rather dizzy, and felt as if he'd pass out if he didn't stop. It had been a long day: full of surprises, none of which were any good.

Dan was somewhat there, and when Phil broke the silence, he stirred. The sudden change of noise level in the room pushed him back into awareness. "I...yeah, wait...what?"

He hadn't remembered what Phil asked, and fuck, he knew this wasn't okay. He also knew that he wasn't making it any better by not paying attention, but he found it hard to try, even for the sake of his best friend. Things were going to absolute shit; rapidly downhill, and he wasn't doing anything to stop it. Dan was feeling weightless, and mostly everything was looking pointless in return.

Phil's expression changed into something exasperated. He didn't mean to appear that way. There were too many things pushing him to his limit, and stressing him out until he couldn't handle it any longer. Everybody has a breaking point; that had been Phil's. "You...oh my god. You just told me you've been having hallucinations. Should I even believe you right now? I don't know what to do about all this. You need help, and from someone other than me. I can't solve all your problems for you."

Dan felt embarrassed, and badly wanted to disappear. Phil hadn't gone too far. The reasoning behind his change in persona was justifiable. He was right. Dan wasn't fond of the truth, so he rejected it in its entirety. Old habits were hard to unlearn, and Dan didn't have the time nor the patience to work on unlearning them.

"I-I don't want it. They won't understand. It's not even curable. What the fuck else am I supposed to do?" Dan began to argue, which wasn't what either of them needed at that moment, and yet he didn't stop himself. All self-control was lost. Abruptly, he stood up from where he was sitting on the floor. "I need you, Phil." He admitted, his voice lowered a bit, but still louder than normal.

"What do you mean you don't want it? Therapy will help, because it's manageable, just not in the way you're trying to manage it. You need that, because it's only getting worse with time." Phil calmed himself down a little, because he knew that getting fired up over it wouldn't help at all. He continued to feel frustrated, though. Getting anywhere with Dan in the conversation proved to be more than difficult. He wouldn't listen.

On the other hand, Dan felt like crying. He was about to burst from all the emotions. They were unbelievably overwhelming, and he wasn't sure he could control them for much longer. "I don't want therapy. I don't want medication. I don't want any of it. I can do it myself, for fuck's sake!" His voice was wobbly at best, as he was trying not to burst.

Phil couldn't take it anymore. He knew he couldn't make Dan want help, and that was the worst part of it all. There was an unconvincing reason for it: that being Dan's stubbornness, but Phil felt there was something else. Perhaps that wasn't it. He was fairly close to the answer; it was on the tip of his tongue, and it rested there tauntingly. So close, yet so out of reach - that was recurring to him in the worst way.

Dan had grown to accept the symptoms he was experiencing, in a way that he couldn't and wouldn't explain. They were becoming familiar; accepting him in a dark embrace that was too hard to put an end to. He kept it as his little secret, even though bottling up everything is never a good idea. He still continued to do it anyway, because he'd never learn. He'd become a creature of habit.

Phil wasn't one to make huge decisions on a whim. He needed time to think, time to make sure he was doing the right thing. All that went out the window when he spoke: "Well, I guess I'll have to find you help myself. This isn't something to fuck around with, Dan. Stop acting like it doesn't matter. You need this. I'm trying to help you because I care. Don't you see that?"

Something that Phil said broke Dan; his expression faltered greatly. Phil didn't care if he was being harsh at all. He knew something had to be done, and if Dan wasn't going to be the one to do it, he would take matters into his own hands.

Dan couldn't bare to stand much longer, due to his unstable emotions, so he sat on the edge of Phil's bed. There was silence as Dan looked at the floor. He couldn't meet his best friend's eyes. It had been different for Phil, because there Dan was, on his bed. Phil's feelings for him were supposed to be repressed, and he wasn't supposed to be thinking about what he was thinking about, but things had a funny way of working out.

Perhaps he should've done something before it was too late.

Dan hid behind his hair as much as he could, while a few stray tears slipped from his eyes. Everything was going to shit, and he wondered why Phil still associated with him at all. He wanted to be better, but he didn't know how. He felt like he didn't have the power to overcome anything.

"If you care so much, then why don't you want to deal with me anymore?" Dan asked, and part of him knew he was being ridiculous, but the other part was genuinely concerned that Phil would rid himself of him if he got the chance. He found it difficult to trust.

Phil noticed the tears that were streaming down Dan's face, and he couldn't push past the feeling of guilt in his stomach. In that moment, he wanted everything to disappear. Life was becoming overwhelming again, and he loathed feeling all the awful emotions that humans were built to experience.

"Dan, you don't understand." Phil said in a soft tone, kneeling down in front of him. It was an attempt to meet his eyes, but he covered them with his hands. "It's not that I don't want to deal with you, it's that I'm not a professional. I can't help you in the same way they could. I'm here for support. I'm here for you, but I can't diagnose you or make you better."

He wasn't embarrassed to cry in front of Phil, he had many times before. However, Dan felt like he was being talked down to. It was simple: he just couldn't handle the truth, and Phil knew that. The truth always hurt him, because he thrived on lies he fed to himself to keep sane.

After all, lies are the small pills that make everything appear okay.

Dan settled on saying nothing in reply, focusing more on his breathing while the tears flowed freely from his brown eyes.

There wasn't much else consolation Phil could give him, other than the something he wasn't aware of the existence of. His best friend wouldn't admit such confidential feelings, at least not yet, so he was ignorantly out of luck.

He knew that Phil's parents would be home any minute, and he didn't want to be a burden to them. Dan uncovered his puffy eyes, smiling sadly at Phil. As he got up and left, he felt a heaviness everywhere he could feel, and he couldn't stop replaying the words Phil said over and over in his head. They echoed in there, and started to sound unreal. He couldn't neglect to notice how they only became louder. It was as if they were taped; being rewinded and played forward once more. Obsessive wasn't the right word, but what was?

-

The atmosphere reeked of a vanilla scent, and it hung around for quite some time after the candle was blown out. Troye loved how Connor's apartment was decorated: so simple, yet so immersive and comforting. Perhaps he would hint at the idea of getting a shared apartment with him, instead of being separated by a hallway.

Connor was on his laptop, typing profusely, as he had a paper on contrasting paranoia and pronoia due the next day. He'd procrastinated, just as almost any university student would. It wasn't a hard topic to explain, but it had to be ten pages long, and well, he was struggling to make seven.

"What else am I supposed to write about in this? I've literally covered everything from the Wikipedia page. I think that's enough." Connor complained to Troye, who was busy being caught up in the aesthetic of his apartment.

Troye shrugged uselessly. "I don't know, did you tie in the religious aspect of it somehow?"

Connor stopped his furious typing and scrolled up the pages he already finished. There was no sign of the mention of religion, and he was about to kiss Troye for his helpful suggestion. "No, I didn't. You, my friend, are my savior."

He smiled because he felt important, even though it was just a mindless suggestion for his friend's paper. Troye was glad he could actually help, because lately, he'd had too much time on his hands, which caused him to finish piles of work out of pure boredom. Nothing was going on, and there was nothing for him to procrastinate due to. Troye noted just how pathetic that was. Clearly, Connor didn't have the same problem.

Connor continued to type for a few more minutes, while Troye scrolled through some tumblr blogs on his phone. He heard the typing stop, and a frustrated sigh, which had him looking up again.

"I'm still short nearly two pages. I'm about to give up and just hand it in like this." Connor said, exasperated by the length of his paper, of all things. He was the type to focus madly on something until it got finished the proper way. Troye had picked up on that within the first few days of knowing him.

Troye moved closer to him on the couch, looking over his shoulder at his dull computer screen. Connor's eyes must have been hurting, for him to turn it down that low. He reached to turn it up.

"What good will that do?"

"I can't see your screen and I want to read it! Give me your laptop." Troye replied, as Connor sighed once more and passed the laptop over to his friend.

His eyes scanned the now bright screen, and his fingers scrolled down the page as he read. Perhaps Troye was too good at bullshitting essays, because he felt the need to add in places where Connor was lacking in word count.

"Can I...add some stuff?" Troye asked hesitantly. He knew how particular Connor could be with his work, and he was reluctant to interfere too much. Yet, he could tell he needed the help, and Troye developed a liking to helping people somehow.

Typical Connor usually would've said no, but the person he was after devoting way too much of his time to one essay said otherwise. "Whatever you want, go ahead. I'm so tired of looking at that thing."

And so Troye tapped away, and edited to his heart's content. He did his best to make the phrasing sound something like Connor, which wasn't hard in the slightest, since the two had been spending a lot of time together over the last few weeks. They both enjoyed the company the other offered, and they got along well, so their friendship felt natural and supportive.

Connor got up to get something to drink, something other than coffee for once. He came back with an iced tea, not much of a downgrade, but the effort was there, nonetheless. He glanced over Troye's shoulder as he finished up the final touches of the paper that wasn't even his to begin with.

Connor made his way around the back of the couch and sat back down beside him, this time closer. "Finished?"

Troye scrolled up the pages of words. "Yeah, nine and a half pages with added fluffy bullshit. You're welcome. Add your works cited and you'll be fine."

Connor was relieved that he didn't have to read over his writing for the twentieth fucking time, because he was growing tired of it. "Wow, you're the best. How do you do that?"

Troye stretched, thinking about heading back over to his less aesthetically pleasing apartment soon. "Practice. Lots of it. I could probably make a living off of writing papers for lazy sixteen year olds. But I decided to study psychiatry."

"Thank you for this. I don't know how much longer I could've sat here and attempted to come up with more bullshit." Connor copy and pasted his work cited page into the file, and shut his laptop for the night. The room was a lot darker now than when he started, and the air still smelled vaguely of vanilla and smoke.

Troye smiled at him, because something told him he was on the right path. He was going to help people professionally some day, and he couldn't wait for that moment to come.

"No problem. Hey, I should get going. See you tomorrow?"

"Of course."

-

Phil had come to like the risk of sneaking out. He wasn't going through his rebellious teenager phase, at least he didn't think so; he reckoned that he stopped caring. It wasn't as big of a deal as he initially thought it to be. His parents wouldn't ground him, and come to think of it, they probably wouldn't do anything since he was eighteen.

It was late, and Dan had left him hours beforehand, but he couldn't get that conversation they had out of his head. He felt like he did something wrong. The feeling was determined to make him miserable until it was acted upon, so there he was, climbing out of his window because he wasn't very inclined to use the front door.

He decided to call Dan once he was he was off his property and on the pavement. It was eerily quiet outside: nothing but the sound of the wind rustling the leaves on the trees and the occasional television audio leaking out of an open window.

Phil heard a few dial tones until he picked up. "Phil?"

He sighed in relief. "Hey, did I wake you?"

"No, why?" Dan asked, already predicting what Phil would say next.

"Because I'll be at your door in a minute or two. Is that fine?"

"Yeah, that's fine."

Phil hung up as he walked faster, and he turned his phone flashlight on so he didn't trip up the steps. The darkness could be particularly disorienting, especially when he had a little bit of adrenaline in his veins.

Dan must have heard him coming up, because he opened the door and poked his head out. A smile was missing from his face, Phil noticed. He pushed the door open all the way, allowing his best friend to come in. He shut it softly behind them, and turned around to meet eyes with Phil.

"Look, I'm sorry...I wish you'd understand that I want what's best for you. You deserve better than what you're limiting yourself to, Dan." Phil's spoke in a honeyed tone; so afraid of making everything even worse.

Dan looked at his hands instead of Phil's eyes. "I-It's fine. I do understand, it's just...it's hard not to limit myself."

Phil wanted to hold him in his arms right there. He also wanted to kiss the fuck out of him too, and the way things were going, maybe that was a bad idea. He decided against it, like always. A lot of things were getting out of hand; Phil didn't need one more thing to add to that list.

"Maybe talking about it isn't helping." Phil was scared to voice the thought that remained in the back of his head all day, because he knew it was the truth. Their conversations surrounding Dan's mental state seemed to result in arguments more than anything.

Dan sighed, "Probably not."

"Want me to go? I will if you want."

"No, stay. I need you here." Dan wanted to be near Phil, while wrapped in late night silence. The world was temporarily paused, and it would resume far too soon. He wanted to enjoy the hours they had left until it was chaos again.

Phil nodded, "Okay."

Dan shyly took Phil's hand, causing his fair skin to blush pink; he was thankful that it was dark enough to hide it. He led him to his bed, and the entire action reeked of innocence, so much so that Phil's mind couldn't begin to venture elsewhere.

They laid there together, on top of the covers. Dan was facing Phil, but his head was tucked between Phil's shoulder and the crook of his neck. He felt better that his face was hidden. Phil's exposed arm was slung around his best friend, holding him close so that their bodies were flush against each other. It had become so familiar and comforting that Dan fell asleep.

His dreams concocted their nightly horror stories, but at least he had someone there to hold him while they played like a mantra in his unconscious mind.


	9. empty, molten cities

Phil didn't bring up their heated conversation after that day, since he was afraid of what Dan would do. It was a strange fear, really. Dan wasn't holding anything against him as far as he knew. Perhaps it was the unspoken aspect of it that made Phil think that way.

He was afraid of a lot of things, losing Dan being at the very top. So much was wrong, and it seemed the more he tried to fix it, the more it all crumbled to pieces. The feeling of helplessness was strong enough to feel like a burden on his chest, so every time he was around Dan, he felt weighted. Phil loved him to pieces, and yet his presence still had that effect on him. He reckoned that it was the fact that he was close to a mentally ill person.

Things would evidently fall apart, and Phil knew that. It was certainly hard to accept the inevitable, but Dan hadn't hit rock bottom just yet. They both knew it was coming, and deep down, it angered Phil that Dan wasn't doing anything to help himself. Simply considering help would be a giant feat for him, and yet, he remained stubborn. Phil couldn't wrap his head around his best friend's reasoning. It didn't make any sense at all.

He came to realize the seriousness of the situation at times he could only sit back and watch. That same old feeling bubbled underneath his skin, threatening to spill over any moment. There was no urgency, at least for Dan. It was almost as if he wanted to get worse.

On top of everything, the feelings that Phil had previously been trying to suppress were getting more intense. He had a burning desire in his chest, and oh god, he loved his best friend so much more than he anticipated he would. It was easy to pass it off as platonic love, because of Dan's mental state, but what would happen when it got stronger? He wouldn't be able to hide from his own truth for much longer.

There was always the chance that Dan felt the same way. Phil wasn't so confident in this chance. Dan clung to him because he was mentally ill, not because he loved him back. That was his perception of their situation, though his doubt was destroying all possible clues.

Phil was scared; always scared that one day would be the end for them. Dan wasn't taking care of his mental health, and even when he said he had been, Phil hardly believed him. It was becoming increasingly difficult for him to believe anything he said, since he tended to lie without even realizing it. And the worst was yet to come creeping out of the shadows.

The mess they were caught in was a lot like a brushfire. Dan set himself up for his own demise, watching himself burn in the flames he started, while Phil frantically searched for water to put him out. He wouldn't find any in that state of mind, and the fire would soon reach him if he wasn't going to be careful enough.

-

"I haven't seen Dan around lately, how is he?" Phil's mother asked him from across the breakfast bar. She always adored Dan, ever since he and Phil were little kids.

That caused panic to set in for Phil, because he knew he couldn't blatantly lie to his mother. She was too good at prodding away the bullshit to get to the truth, to his disadvantage. It hadn't been that much of a problem, though. He didn't have to lie any other time, with the exception of the sneaking out he did, and technically, that wasn't lying. He just didn't tell her, and she didn't ask.

Phil left out details a lot more than he originally thought he did.

A few seconds passed by as he stabbed a piece of scrambled egg on his plate, trying his best to appear casual. "Yeah, he's been alright. Just pretty busy." Phil hadn't really lied, he just stretched the truth, more so.

She smiled, "You should have him over sometime, for dinner maybe. He's such a nice boy."

Phil didn't know what to say back, because there was just so much he wasn't telling her. She didn't know of Dan's mental health, or that her son was falling more and more in love with him each passing day. He couldn't seem to find the will to talk about either of those things. The words simply wouldn't come out.

And maybe it was better off that way; with Phil keeping his mouth shut and pretending as if everything was perfectly okay. Although he didn't know how much longer he could pretend, he would continue.

He nodded in response, as his mother turned back around to make herself breakfast.

Phil knew that it wasn't going to get much easier to hide the truth from his parents. However, he kept doing it, time after time. There would come a day when he could no longer hide what he hadn't been saying, he just ignored the inevitable.

-

Dan had texted him later that day, saying something about going for a walk together. Phil deemed it strange, since Dan was never the one to invite him to go places. It wasn't a big deal; he had the free time, and it felt right spending it with him. He just wondered what made his best friend feel inclined to break character like he did.

Maybe it would be better if he just stopped questioning as much as he did. It caused him to worry an unhealthy amount.

Phil was still adapting to the changes life was throwing at him, and he'd be lying if he said that he wasn't struggling a bit. He had quite a lot to worry about, and things always piled up in his brain. Entirely too much mind clutter made him feel disorganized. Doing something about it proved to be hopeless and near impossible. Phil had tried a lot of things: writing it down on paper, setting reminders on his phone, and countless other rituals he'd abandon within no time. No matter what he tried, nothing could erase the dissatisfaction he harbored.

Something was always there, taunting him in the midst of his daily life.

He thought of it as a bump in the road, and it would smooth out with a little time. Everything would be fine. He reminded himself just that on a daily basis, because with the weight of Dan's mental health and his own, it wouldn't take much for it all to come crashing down. There was simply too much at risk.

So, Phil accepted Dan's rather spontaneous invitation to a walk. It wouldn't hurt to keep an eye on him for a short while. Perhaps he needed to check in on him more than he had been. He felt he needed that, because it was evident that Dan was hiding some part of himself away, although there wasn't much else that could be done about it. He was refusing professional help, and as far as Phil knew, he was the only person that Dan regularly spoke to.

They met outside of Phil's house, and when Phil's mom found out about that plan, she insisted on going outside with them to say hello to Dan.

"Hello, Dan! I haven't seen you in so long. How've you been?" She asked Dan the question he dreaded most of all in her most polite voice. Dan felt a little defeated, because it was getting hard for him to lie.

He felt awkward under her gaze, almost ashamed, in a way. The worry that she could find out his secrets just by looking at him wouldn't leave him be. It was a silly thing to be concerned about, but Dan's rationality wasn't in the greatest condition. He could hardly tell when he was being ridiculous.

"I'm good, nothing much going on really." Dan smiled politely back at her. He always remembered her as a kind woman, much kinder than his own mother. Sometimes he felt a little pang of jealousy when he was younger; Phil was lucky to have the home life he had.

She looked between her son and his best friend, "That's good. Well, I won't keep you guys. Have fun on your walk, you two." Phil's mom then went inside, and Dan was a little thankful. Talking to adults was stressful; he always worried he would say the wrong thing.

Phil looked at Dan endearingly for a second before they started walking. "You know, she really approves of you."

"You think?" Dan was skeptical. He felt too incompetent for approval.

Phil's arm brushed against Dan's, and the sudden contact sent a shiver down his spine. "Yeah, this morning she said you were a 'nice boy' and talked about how she hasn't seen you in so long."

"Oh, really? For all she knows, I could've turned into a complete asshole." Dan joked, though on the inside, it seemed odd. He never could accept kind words or compliments easily. He usually felt undeserving somehow.

As much as Phil wanted to show Dan that he was worth much more than he thought himself to be, he knew that he could only go so far. He often pondered outcomes, typically what might happen if he kissed him. That was entirely his problem: the mulling tirelessly over situations, because Phil had a talent of thinking himself into a spiral of more questions.

Like always, Phil decided against showing Dan his worth in the way he wanted to, for the blatant fact that he didn't know if that's what he wanted. He wouldn't dare ask, either. If only there wasn't so much at risk.

"Yes, really. Please don't put yourself down. You're too hard on yourself." Phil told Dan sincerely, as he noticed the way their paces matched up the same.

Dan sighed, knowing all too well that his best friend was right, and yet he couldn't do much of anything to change it. It was a part of him: something that ingrained itself into his brain from a young age. He knew he was fucked up. "I know, I can't help it. There's a lot I need to work on this summer, I guess." He admitted, making plans out loud.

"Just take it one step at a time, and don't overwhelm yourself. I know it'll be hard for you to get where you want to be, with your parents and all, but I want you to know that I'll always be here for you. I care a hell of a lot about you. I don't want to see you suffer." Phil knew he wasn't the best person to get advice from, but he also knew that Dan wasn't going to just miraculously get better with the blink of an eye. He had to try; anything at all was better than nothing.

His words made the heat rush to Dan's cheeks. He didn't know what was going on, but lately, he had been feeling different towards Phil. Not a bad kind of different; it was more like a good different with vague undertones of complexity. Identifying it proved to add more to Dan's metaphorical plate. He was beginning to wonder about the feeling he felt, and why it was there in the first place.

Perhaps he could track it's origin, if only his memory were better. Everything was melting together: thoughts, memories, dreams, and feelings.

"T-Thank you, Phil. I really appreciate you." Dan was struggling to regularly replace the air in his lungs, and for a reason he couldn't quite find. All he knew was that it had something to do with Phil.

Phil felt a smile creep onto his face, "No need to thank me, you're my best friend, after all."

That was enough to make Dan feel special, so fucking special. He couldn't begin to explain the way it caused his heart to swim in his stomach; slightly unpleasant yet addictive. It was difficult to admit to himself that he wanted to feel it more.

They walked the rest of the way to the park in a comfortable silence. Phil couldn't stop thinking about how much Dan meant to him, while Dan visualized his heart diving down into his stomach. They were a beautiful contrast.

-

"Hey, could one of you take a photo for us?"

Dan and Phil heard the voice from behind them as they walked in the park, which caught them by surprise. They both stopped and turned around quickly, and their eyes fell upon two boys. One had light brown hair, and the other's was a darker shade of brown. They were around the same height, while they also appeared to have a similar fashion sense.

Phil was the first to speak, with Dan being terribly shy and all. "Yeah, sure!"

The one with the lighter wavy hair handed him the Polaroid camera, and then proceeded to pose with the other boy. Phil was lucky that he knew how to work Polaroid cameras, since neither of the boys told him what button to press.

He snapped the picture and handed the camera back to the assumed owner. "That's a really cool camera, where'd you get it?"

The boy smiled as he took the photo out of the camera and shook it. "Amazon, believe it or not! Troye here actually bought it for me, as a gift," He said. "Oh - and I'm Connor if you were wondering," He added afterwards, so happy that he stumbled upon the other two once again. He knew he recognized them from somewhere.

"Well I'm Phil, and this is Dan," Phil introduced, making a hand motion towards his best friend next to him. He seemed like he didn't want to be there at all in that moment, but Phil knew he'd be fine, as long as he was there with him and didn't leave his side.

"Hi," Dan greeted, rather lamely at that. He felt so awkward, despite the fact that neither Connor nor Troye were rude in the slightest.

"Nice to meet you guys!" Troye smiled, noticing how Dan's eyes met with the ground once more. He couldn't help but notice his mannerisms, and how he just didn't seem all there. Quickly, he dismissed the thought. It was a rather fleeting thought, anyway. He tended to evaluate people more than he liked to admit.

"We were both planning on going somewhere to eat, being lunchtime and all. Would you two like to join us by any chance?" Connor asked, wanting to get to know Dan and Phil better. They seemed like interesting people to him.

Dan decided to take that chance, since he'd been feeling inadequate more than anything. He wanted to prove himself, to himself. "Yeah, that sounds great."

Phil was floored by Dan's response, but he went along with it. He was a bit worried, though. He hoped that Dan would be alright, and that Troye and Connor would be accepting of him. His best friend had experienced enough rejection in his life, meaning that Phil always felt the need to try and protect him from it. It was simply an instinct.

-

They all had a good time together that afternoon. Dan temporarily forgot about the troubles he was facing, and Phil didn't even think about his barely subtle feelings for him. Troye and Connor both set aside their worries concerning university for the time being. It was as if the rest of the world didn't exist for a little while. The time passed without a single glance at the clock; effortless and free of boredom. The four of them just clicked.

Dan and Phil were on their way to getting to know Troye and Connor. They ended up exchanging phone numbers at the end, to everyone's advantage. A group chat was set up, and perhaps Dan was glad he took them up on that offer. He felt different, a kind of feeling he wasn't too familiar with. He wasn't quite used to the idea of people other than Phil enjoying his company.

Although Phil was always enough, Dan still felt empty and alone. It was unfortunate that Troye and Connor would hardly be able to outweigh that same emptiness. He'd come to accept the fact that there was a good chance he'd feel like that forever.

The darkness he felt on the inside cloaked him, surrounding Dan in a way that made emptiness seem normal to him. He never did learn how to see patterns in nothing at all.


	10. realizations for the hyperaware

The weather was beginning to change drastically; everything coming to life after the April rain had come and gone. Dan hadn't felt any different. Expecting a different feeling from the weather was a bit ridiculous, and he really should've known that nothing would suddenly change and become better just like that. No matter the circumstance, he always hoped for his state of mind to let up, and yet it hardly ever did. It was persistent in being as awful as it could be.

Hope was so fragile in his hands, if the way it shattered like the thinnest glass was any indication. A deep chill found its way down Dan's spine as he imagined broken glass in his palms: digging into the skin with blood beading in the creases of his hand. Even with a head so blurry, it could still create vivid images with little stimuli. Perhaps he could do without that entirely.

Dan had caught his reflection in the glass door that he had a strange desire to smash. He looked no worse than a normal day: tired in the face, lips chewed, and hair sticking up in all different directions. That reflection merged with all the greenery outside, along with the morning sun that cast bright rays upon everything. They were vaguely blinding, but Dan didn't mind much.

Getting ready for school often felt too routine, as he performed the same exact rituals each day he woke. Everything was mundane, despite the somewhat pleasant weather outside. Dan knew it wouldn't last very long anyway. The temporary nature of it all ruined most things. Nothing ever stays the same, and that was one thing it took the seventeen year old a bit too long to figure out.

Growing up, he held onto the belief that things would someday change for the better. When everything seemed awful, he looked forward in an attempt to feel better about the present. It never did work, because although the terrible in life does change, it can only shape shift into other unpleasant things in the end. In spite of the way Dan chose to look at it, it always appeared exactly the same as before. To put it simply, life was terrible in his perspective.

He found school entirely unnecessary; the way it tore him apart with the long days and general tiring nature putting that thought in his head. He managed average grades: just enough to keep himself from failing out of his classes. There wasn't much else Dan could do, since keeping himself focused seemed to be nothing but a pipe dream.

It was okay, though: it didn't matter to him like it once did. Things were fading and blurring at the edges, and it made sense that academics were the last thing on his mind. He constantly felt as if he was underwater in his own head, and drowning within it was the inevitable.

Dan proceeded to get ready for school, just like he would any other day. He felt weak and exhausted to his core, but a part of him knew he had no choice except to show up. Perhaps it was easier to keep up appearances than to slip away and evidently get caught in the aftermath of what his mental state had been like.

Going through the motions, he soon realized that the day was nothing special, as always. Only the groggy haze of the afternoon fell over Dan's head; he was feeling so weary. He thought about sleep, and how lovely it would be if it were attainable in reasonable amounts. He hadn't been getting the recommended eight hours at all - it was closer to three or four, even on a good night.

There was something there, an unnamed emotion perhaps, that kept his mind awake in the nighttime. It remained constant and it drained most of Dan's energy. He supposed he would trade just about anything for a good recharge. Maybe sleeping pills would work; he was willing to try anything at that point in time.

Dan thought about his two new friends. It felt strange to think about, because people simply didn't like him like they liked Phil. Admittedly, he was a bit jealous of his best friend. Phil was likable, friendly, and he had a wonderful personality. As much as Dan tried to be all those things, he never quite pulled it off, and that frustrated him deeply. He tended to push that to the very back of his mind, because it wasn't good to compare himself to other people like that. It was all a subconscious thing, which made it an even harder habit to break.

Mulling over all that was wrong was something Dan caught himself doing way too much. It happened to be one of those things that he knew he should stop, but also knew he wouldn't be able to stop. That same old feeling of helplessness swirled around in his head, quite like the aftershock of a tidal wave in the darkest part of the ocean.

Things were bad, so bad that Dan didn't know if he wanted to get better somehow or stay in that state of mind forever. Something about getting better made him feel frightened, as if his horrible state of mind was becoming a fucked up kind of comfortable. That certain type of fear was holding him down and causing so much trouble in the process.

-

It was at the end of the day that Dan realized it.

He had thought himself into a hole by the time the last bell sounded. School had always given him far too much time to be alone, so he often let his thoughts take over completely. There was just so much to think about; he couldn't resist.

Dan thought about Phil a lot, and in many different ways. That alone was crossing the thin line between platonic and something else entirely. He was very inexperienced with that type of thing, so it wasn't the easiest for him to draw a conclusion with that information. But, with all that aside: he somehow figured it out. It being putting some sort of name on what he was feeling towards his best friend.

Dan was starting to love Phil, and more than just in the platonic sense. It hadn't been very clear at first, but he finally could make something of it after some time spent contemplating everything at hand. It was a new concept entirely, at least to Dan, and he couldn't help but feel different about it. Maybe that day wasn't the exact same as all the rest after all.

He just couldn't stop thinking about the love word, and all the things it could possibly entail. They were already so close: both emotionally and physically. Boundaries were never really a thing for them, and perhaps that was fucking with Dan's head a little bit. He couldn't deny what he was feeling, though, because it was undeniably there once he found it. If it wasn't real, then he wouldn't have felt the glare of anticipation upon his entire being.

Even though Dan thought he had reached the end of his eye opening thoughts for the day, he wasn't finished at all. There were many questions arising from the conclusion he made; they couldn't possibly go ignored. How did Phil feel? What would happen if he told him about his newly discovered feelings? Would they remain friends, or turn into something more? Were they already in love and just ignorant all along?

So many questions without answers bombarded Dan on his journey down the hallway to Phil's locker, all of which were causing him a great deal of nervousness. He had to focus on putting one foot in front of the other before he could worry about those questions. It seemed so simple up until he thought himself into that hole, but maybe, just maybe it wouldn't be too complex.

When Phil came into his sight, Dan had to make an effort to calm his nerves. He found it kind of funny how all of a sudden he felt so strongly towards him; it was as if the feelings were hidden in a box and set on a shelf that he couldn't reach until that very day in time. All strange happenings aside, Dan felt fluttery in the chest and he cursed himself silently for it.

Phil looked to his best friend when he shut his locker with a little too much force, "Oh, hey Dan. Ready to leave?"

"Yeah, let's get out of here." Dan managed to hide away what he was feeling inside, which wasn't such an unfamiliar task for him.

When they were finished weaving through the crowds of other teenagers, Phil spoke up: deciding that the silence was too much. "Is everything alright today?"

That was the question he typically asked after a long day without seeing Dan, because he cared more than he could ever know. He just got frustrated with him sometimes, which was understandable, considering the fact that the other boy was as stubborn as they come.

Dan wasn't going to lie to Phil, but he was going to beat around the bush, because he knew very well that it was too early to discuss feelings. He still didn't find answers to any of those questions yet. So, he shrugged, more to himself than anything. "I guess so, I've been thinking a lot and making sense of things."

"Really? Like what kind of things?" Phil wasn't going to make him tell him, but oh god, did he want to know. Dan had a habit of leaving out important details, whether he was conscious of it or not.

Dan knew he should've said something else. "Myself mainly, and like...where I am as a person. Other things too, but they don't matter as much." He struggled to get himself out of that one.

Phil nodded, suddenly wishing he could hold Dan's hand as they walked down the street. He chased the invasive thought away, and instead, focused more on their conversation. "Why don't the other things matter as much?"

Phil was full of questions, and Dan really should have known better than to say what he said. It did make for good conversation; better than the silence that always made Dan uneasy. "They just don't. I don't really know how to explain it. They're those things that you don't need to talk about, because they're not at all significant to other people. You would get bored listening to me talk shit, anyway."

"No I wouldn't. I could listen to you talk all day. But I get what you're saying, just don't feel like you can't talk to me about anything. I'm here, and I know I say that almost every day, but I mean it." Phil didn't care if he had to repeat himself a million times; he would tell Dan he cared until he couldn't speak anymore.

Dan made eye contact with Phil for a split second, and he felt like he would die if he held it any longer. He was starting to drive himself crazy in a whole new way. "Thank you, but are you sure about that? Wouldn't I start to annoy you after a while?"

They were outside Dan's house now, without even deciding who's they'd end up going to. It just happened; they were a certain type of automatic that some people who die for.

Phil followed his best friend up the steps that he couldn't help but be familiar with. "I'm positive. You could never annoy me." He admitted as Dan unlocked the sliding glass door, opening it to a cool and quiet room.

Dan didn't know what to say, so he smiled discreetly as he shut the door behind them. He pulled the grey curtains across the rod to make the late afternoon sun disappear, liking how they darkened the room and made it almost seem like nighttime. It was crazy to think that earlier in that day, he was standing in front of those doors in a terrible state of mind. Dan wasn't sad at all; he was actually a strange kind of happy that made him feel like he had six cups of coffee in an hour. He knew that crashing would be inevitable, because what goes up must come back down.

"I don't think either of my parents are home yet," Dan said, setting his book bag down in a haphazard fashion near his desk. Phil did the same.

It was eerily quiet, and dark, considering that Dan hadn't plugged in his fairy lights yet. His bedroom door that opened to the second floor hallway was closed, so there wasn't anything telling if his parents were home or not. Perhaps he would have to go see for himself.

Phil sat down on the edge of Dan's bed, almost as if it were his own bed. It might as well have been: they shared it quite a lot when Phil was at his house, and the same went for Phil's bed. Sometimes their pillows smelled more like each other than themselves, which neither of them had a problem with.

"Do you want to go check if they are?" Phil asked, watching as Dan finally plugged in those fairy lights. The room filled with dim light from the lazily hung cords.

Dan shook his head, "I don't care either way. It's not like they come up here. This entire floor is practically mine." He retrieved a notebook from his desk and then sat himself down next to his best friend.

Phil felt terrible for him, like always, but he knew that there was nothing he could do about it. To make up for his lack of response, he wrapped an arm around Dan, pulling him into his side. He seemed to fit so perfectly there.

As if it was his lifeline, Dan melted into Phil's touch. He reckoned that he always did that, but somehow, this time was different. A lot of things were different, and the seventeen year old was having a hard time processing it all.

It remained quiet between the two for another few moments, until Phil noticed the notebook on Dan's lap. "What's that for?" He asked, genuinely curious.

"Oh, I write stuff in it. I just wanted to show you," Dan told him with a hushed voice. The arm around his waist was causing that fluttery feeling in his stomach again, and he felt like he was going insane.

If only Phil knew what was going on inside Dan's head at that exact moment, because he was causing great conflict up there. Dan just wanted to fucking kiss him, but he knew that would be crossing the line, so he didn't. That decision didn't chase the yearn for it away, though. It remained there, taunting him in the process.

"I don't really know what's in here, I write all this when I'm really tired, so I don't know what you'll find. Just...don't judge me, okay?" Dan admitted, and he was becoming increasingly nervous the more time that went by without a word from Phil's mouth. He managed to focus on the hand that was now resting on his hipbone instead, and honestly, it wasn't that easy to ignore.

Phil was a bit shocked, considering that Dan was overly secretive, and didn't just show him things unless they were important. "Yeah, don't worry, I won't. I can't believe you trust me enough."

Dan rolled his eyes and pressed against his best friend more - if that was even a possibility. He put the notebook in Phil's free hand. "Phil, Of course I trust you."

Phil took his arm back, to Dan's disappointment, so he could open the notebook. He had a weird type of anticipation caught in his throat, one he couldn't chase to save his life.

The first entry wasn't dated, and he was just hoping it wasn't recent.

I'm feeling a little more than spacey. It's hard to grasp reality most days, and I feel as though I have no control over it. My skin doesn't feel mine, it feels like it's smothering me. My face doesn't look like mine, and I can't quite remember what it used to look like. Nothing feels mine. I'm not here, this can't be happening.

"I-Is this...recent? Please tell me you're okay." Phil could feel his heart beating erratically in his chest; panic setting in. He wondered why Dan would show him something of that nature. It was almost as if he felt guilty for reading it, even though he wanted him to.

Dan could sense how on edge the boy next to him was, "I don't think it is. I'm fine, look, I'm right here," He said in a hushed voice. Ironically, he was the one who needed to hear those words, not Phil.

Phil just looked him in the eyes, feeling a strange type of way about everything. He stood up, making his way over to Dan's desk. He closed the notebook and set it down where he saw Dan had it beforehand.

Dan was a bit confused, but began to understand why Phil had done what he had. He didn't want to dwell on past thoughts, he wanted to spend time in the present with his best friend. Perhaps that's what Dan wanted too, it just took him a second to figure it out. Being hypersensitive about it wasn't going to help, anyway. He knew that Phil meant well.

When Phil sat back down next to Dan, a sudden urge overcame all else. He wrapped his arms tightly around the most important person in his life, almost as if he'd slip away if he didn't do so.

-

Troye and Connor were probably too excited to have Dan and Phil over to watch some movies. They had texted a lot, and became quite close in a small amount of time. Dan was still awkward, but he could feel himself growing comfortable with them. He wasn't used to that feeling, not at all.

Ever since Phil read that part of Dan's notebook, he hadn't let his guard down. He spent much of his time watching over his best friend; constantly afraid that something would go wrong, and he would fail to be there when it did. He knew that was no way to live, but he didn't know what else to do. Leaving Dan was no option, so Phil stayed. He stayed throughout everything else; it only made sense that he would stay through this as well.

Phil was glad that Dan seemed to be getting along with their new friends very well. It was nice to see him with other people, because he knew he struggled with having and keeping friends all throughout his childhood. He just hoped that they'd stay, unlike the countless other people that Phil watched walk into Dan's life, and then out again within a small time frame.

It was a weeknight, so the four of them knew they couldn't stay up all night watching movies, but that didn't change the fact that they wanted to.

They started off with a horror movie, to Phil's disadvantage. He never liked them, and they frightened him sleepless more often than not. It was Connor's idea, and that left them all surprised, because he definitely did not seem to be the horror movie type.

Troye sat on the end of the sofa next to Connor, while Dan sat on the other end next to Phil. Troye and Connor kept a bit of distance between themselves; Dan and Phil did not. There was certainly a contrast between the two sets of friends, one that they were all aware of.

The beginning of the movie was calm and interesting, drawing them all in within a few minutes. Then, the characters started seeing ghosts in mirrors and shadows on walls, and Dan started to feel...different. It made him hyperaware of everything: his breath, the sudden heaviness in the room, and the warm body next to his. Phil was pressed up against him, way closer than he was when the movie started.

He started to panic. He didn't know why, but the situation was too much for him to handle.

Phil noticed the sudden change in his best friend's demeanor. "Dan, are you alright?" He asked in a low voice so he wouldn't disturb the other two, who were still absorbed.

Dan tried to calm down before he spoke, "Yeah, I'm fine. That scene just startled me a bit."

Troye overheard them talking, and was ready to tell them to be quiet, until he saw the look on Dan's face. He didn't look okay at all. He quickly pressed the pause button on the remote next to him. "Is everything all right?"

Phil nodded. "Yeah, he was just a little startled," He answered for Dan. The boy was leaning into him more than before, and by this point, they were practically cuddling on Troye's couch.

"We can turn this off if you want, Dan. I'll just make Connor pick something that doesn't make you lose sleep tonight," Troye said, glancing over at Connor, who rolled his eyes.

Dan shrugged, "Only if you want to. I'll be fine either way, really." He couldn't stop obsessing over the way he and Phil were pressed up against one another, so he didn't want to offer to leave the room.

"We'll turn it off, it's no big deal. I'd rather watch something funny, anyway," Connor said, as he got up from his seat next to Troye to find a different movie to watch.

Phil felt the tension radiating off of Dan. He could easily tell that something was wrong, so he snuggled closer to him and draped his arm over his shoulders. It was a good thing that Phil couldn't hear Dan's thoughts, because to him, they were loud and overbearing.

Connor picked a comedy, like he said he would. It made Dan feel a little better, but he couldn't properly focus on it; Phil's touch was distracting. He didn't mind - he wasn't much of a movie person anyway. It was simply the principle of it: he couldn't focus on anything except for the arm around him and the body pressed up against his own, which belonged to his best friend.

They were all quiet during the movie, minus the occasional giggle from one of them. Dan eventually allowed himself to rest his head on Phil's shoulder, which made Phil smile discreetly to himself.

Connor left Troye's apartment shortly before the movie ended, with the excuse that he had some work to do. They all said goodbye to him, and turned their attention back to it for a little while longer.

It was getting late: the streetlights outside began to illuminate the streets for passing cars. None of them realized just how much time had passed until they looked out the nearest window.

"Shit, it's getting pretty late," Troye stated, almost as if he was shocked that time passed while he wasn't watching. He spontaneously remembered something he wanted to do, and acted on that thought immediately. "Hey, um, Dan? Could I talk to you for a second? It's nothing bad, I promise."

Despite Troye telling him that it was nothing bad, Dan panicked with those words, because they could mean so many things. "Yeah, sure." He picked his head up off of Phil's shoulder, and noticed that he was asleep. He looked so peaceful.

Once he got himself untangled from the sleeping body, he followed Troye to the hall of their apartment building.

Troye looked at his feet before he spoke, and then up at Dan again. "I just wanted you to know that I'm here for you. I can tell you're going through something, and whatever that may be isn't my business, but I'm here if you need to talk or anything. I don't want you to feel alone, because you're not."

Dan had a hard time believing him at first, he really did. Hearing kind words from someone who wasn't Phil was very unfamiliar. "T-Thank you. That means a lot to me, it really does." He smiled a new kind of smile: a relieved one.

"Don't mention it. You're my friend now. Connor is your friend as well, and though he doesn't say it, he shows it. He cares a lot, and so do I," Troye spoke with sincerity laced in his voice.

Dan didn't know what to say. "I just...thank you, for everything."

It was then that he realized that he couldn't let himself fuck up what he had going, because now he knew that more than one person cared. Dan knew that finding validation in numbers wasn't the smartest thing to do, and yet he somehow convinced himself that it was alright anyway. He had friends now; people who would look after him when he needed it most, and that thought alone was the most reassuring he'd had in a long time.


	11. spilt all over town

Perhaps leaving spontaneously wasn't the best idea in the world, but it wasn't like Dan knew that, especially when most things he knew were inaccessible for the time being. Just like that, quite a lot of his memories were gone. It seemed that they were never there at all, and Dan had no recollection of the very moment before it they disappeared. He didn't know what was going on, and he didn't even question it. Things were getting a lot worse than he originally anticipated.

The entire situation was hopeless at best, that's how he left his house in the middle of the day without telling anyone. He simply didn't think to say anything. The seventeen year old had no sense of direction; everything was hazy and nothing made much sense at all. Even Dan's own name had temporarily left his mind, and he should have been a lot more concerned than he was. He couldn't possibly be aware of it though, because what had happened was a fugue state.

Dan felt empty; the place where the burning agony once resided was now devoid of pieces of himself. There was no pain, no sadness - just the sound of his own footsteps against the gritty pavement beneath him. They had a frantic sort of beat to them, as if he was running late.

He didn't know where he was headed, he just let his legs carry him wherever they desired to go. The town didn't look very familiar. Foreign houses and buildings lined the busy streets, and blurry vehicles zoomed past him in a matter of seconds. The display windows of the shops contained nothing of substance. People walked by him, glanced at his tired face, and then continued on their unique path. Their faces all belonged to a stranger's. Dan couldn't attach a memory to anything his eyes landed on.

He decided to take a side street, instead of staying on the main road. The one he selected had houses, much like his own, but not the exact same. Dan was convinced that he had never seen them before, even though he'd had his fair share of strolls around the neighborhood with Phil beforehand. He couldn't seem to recall those instances.

Nobody was around, and he wondered what time it was. He didn't bring his phone with, so he had no way of finding out. The pavement beneath him was littered with puddles of rainwater. Dan wondered when it rained last. Judging by those puddles, and the dark clouds moving away with the passing minutes: it had recently come to a halt. He was thankful for that, even though he did like the rain more than the average person.

Near the end of the street, there was an empty lot, and behind it was the beginning of a forest. The massive trees intrigued Dan, so he approached the area. When he finally reached the point of separation between the forest and the grassy lot, he stopped. There was something odd about what he was doing. He didn't even know why he was doing it in the first place.

Dan decided to push all those unanswered questions aside for the moment. With that, he walked into the forest; the canopy of trees creating a darkness that he was somehow attracted to. It was calming, in a way. He took more hesitant steps, and soon enough, he heard the sound of running water close by.

-

Phil was having a peaceful day, until Dan stopped replying to him for a couple hours. At first, he passed it off as an unanticipated nap, but then he realized that Dan didn't really take naps. He almost always replied within a couple minutes of the message, so Phil couldn't help but worry himself sick over it.

He texted him once more, telling him that he was on his way over. He didn't get a reply, or any clue as to what he was up to. The eighteen year old rushed out of his house, and wasted no time getting to his best friend's own.

The sliding glass door was locked on the outside, and the curtain was pulled over it. Phil sighed nervously, and went back down the stairs. He approached the front door, ringing the door bell once. It felt strange to be doing such a thing, since he couldn't remember the last time he had to ring Dan's doorbell.

Phil heard the door unlocking, and it opened to reveal Dan's mother. After everything his best friend had told him about the way his parents treated him, Phil didn't like them at all. He was fooled when he was younger, because they were seemed nice around him. It was all an act, and learning that had urged the dislike he grew towards them.

The second her eyes fell upon the eighteen year old, she smiled softly. "Hey Phil! Haven't seen you around in a while. Is everything okay?" Her voice was coated with fake passion. Phil was surprised she even recognized him.

"Um, well...Dan isn't answering my messages, and that's not like him at all. Do you know what he's up to?" He asked, waiting to hear some sort of false information. He had a bad feeling about all of this.

She made a face after hearing his words, "He's up in his room, as far as I know."

Phil nodded, though he had some doubts. "Would it be okay if I went and checked on him?"

"Yeah, go ahead."

With that, she opened the door enough to let him in the house. He walked through, and felt a little bit nervous as he walked up the stairs to the second floor. What if Dan wasn't there? What would he do if he couldn't track him down? Phil easily could have been overreacting to such a silly thing, but his worry was completely valid.

He opened the door to Dan's room, and it was empty. His bed was unmade, there were clothes on the floor, and his phone was sitting on his desk. Phil's face paled, because nothing like this ever happened before. He always knew where Dan was. Now that he didn't, well; it made him feel more powerless than he had ever felt before.

Phil decided to search for clues. He didn't know how much good it would do, but it didn't hurt to try. He grabbed Dan's phone, pressing the home button to reveal all the missed text messages that he sent to him. There were no other notifications.

He sighed and put the phone back down. His eyes caught sight of some sticky notes with writing on them. They were haphazardly placed about on his desk.

Phil peeled one off the surface and read: "I lost my faith in what I once had. It's never coming back, just let me let it go."

He frowned, growing increasingly worried by the second. He picked up another one, reading: "Stop fucking forgetting, please just let me remember. I miss something that I already have."

Another note caught his eye, and this one was written in far messier handwriting than he previous couple. "There's a feeling in my chest that I can't describe and I'm afraid that if I don't write it down, it'll forget I ever felt it at all. I want to feel this way some more, because I kinda like it. I want to preserve it. I'm hoping it will still be here when I wake up in the morning."

Phil read countless other notes on his desk. Some were reminders to do some kind of schoolwork, but most of them were thoughts, he assumed. None of them contained any information pertaining to where he might be, and that thought alone could destroy him. His mind was jumping to awful conclusions. He simply didn't know what to do; where to start in the awful mess that he stumbled upon before him.

Phil decided to go back downstairs and tell Dan's parents that he wasn't there. He didn't know what they would say, or what they would do: if anything at all. Not knowing what to expect, he slowly approached the stairs and walked down them.

Dan's mother was cleaning the stovetop, her back to Phil. She looked a lot different than she did when Dan and Phil were kids; older, perhaps. It only made sense, because the years had passed, and aging is inevitable. Despite that, Phil wondered if something else was wrong: something he couldn't find out from not even Dan himself.

She turned around quickly at the sound of footsteps. "H-He's not up there," Phil blurted out, scared of the words, because they were true. He didn't want to believe them.

"Oh, well, he probably just went for a walk. He does that a lot." Her voice was so calm, too calm.

Phil's veins began to pulse with something he didn't feel too often, that feeling being anger. He knew that Dan's mother was only downplaying the situation because she simply didn't care about him. It was difficult for Phil to keep his knowledge of the mistreatment of her son to himself, especially when it was happening right before his eyes. He could see past the bullshit.

After a few seconds of silence, Phil unclenched his fists. "No, you don't understand. He doesn't just leave without his phone and without saying anything to me. I'm his best friend, I know him better than anyone!"

She was taken back by his sudden change in tone. "And I'm his mother! I raised him, you didn't. I'm sure he's fine."

"You obviously didn't, because I know way more than I should know. And how can you be so sure? I-I...I'm done wasting time here. I'm going to find him." Phil felt the heat of the anger in his entire body, absolutely everywhere.

He didn't even give her enough time to say anything in reply: he just stormed out and didn't look back. He felt so terrible for Dan, because he didn't deserve the awful treatment he received from his parents.

Phil found the source of the problem, but that didn't solve everything. Dan was still missing, and he had to find him before anything bad happened.

-

Phil walked around town for a couple hours, going into shops and pretending that nothing was wrong. He even called Troye and Connor, hoping they would know something; anything at all. Neither of the two knew of Dan's whereabouts, but they agreed to keep an eye out for anything.

Phil had worried himself sick. He felt helpless, once again. This time, it was a different kind of helpless.

He just wanted Dan by his side again, preferably pressed up against him in a warm embrace. Phil wanted him safe more than anything else in the entire world in that moment, and he would do anything to make sure that his best friend would never leave his sight again.

-

TW: Q SLUR

Dan's mother sat down at the dining room table with a cup of tea in hand. Her husband sat across from her, appearing generally disinterested in conversation as he flicked through a magazine. She swirled the tea bag by its string, around and around.

"He'll come back, he always does." She interrupted the quiet without hesitation.

Dan's father sighed heavily, "He better, if he knows what's best for him."

"But...what if he doesn't? What if the police get involved?" She wrapped her hands around the warm mug, thinking about all the possibilities.

He slammed his fist down on the table in response, causing her to spill some of the hot tea on her hands. "Who cares? He's what, seventeen now? He can fend for himself, or he can have his fucking queer friend save him."

Dan's mother got up from the table to wash her hands under some cold water to ease the slight burn. She looked out the kitchen window, watching as the trees swayed back and forth with the wind. A couple drops of rain hit the glass; another storm was coming.


	12. flooded streets and glinting eyes

The sound of running water was strangely calming to Dan, so as soon as he heard the beautiful sound echoing in his ears, he started in that direction. Nothing mattered in that moment except for his destination: a little creek in the heart of the forest.

On the way there, he took in his surroundings like never before. They could have seeped through his skin for all he cared; he felt drunk on the ambience. The tops of the trees swayed back and forth above his head, and he noticed how lovely the vibrancy of green looked. The color surrounded Dan completely on all sides, covering nearly every surface he could see. He looked down at his feet, and at the lush moss he was crushing with each step he took. He stopped for a second and reached down to touch it, feeling the softness on his fingertips.

He continued on, taking deep breaths every now and then. Dan felt relaxed, it was almost like a floating feeling. The air smelled of spring: a sweet mist that was impossible to ignore. It filled his lungs and eased the slight headache he had. Nothing made sense, but the seventeen year old found peace in the strangeness of it all.

When Dan finally found the creek, he sat on a rock just at the edge of the running water. He was careful to not let his feet get wet as he rested them on two rocks in front of him. There was a certain type of tranquillity in the air, although he couldn't figure out why. Dan thoughtlessly neglected that the sense of calmness wasn't a good thing. There was chaos past all the swaying trees, he just couldn't see it at the time.

Dan noticed how the sunlight that was filtering through the thick greenery started to dull a bit. The part of the sky that he could see was turning a grayish blue; the same color that signaled a rainstorm. He didn't expect it to rain, so he didn't bring an umbrella or anything of that nature. He was only wearing a light long sleeved shirt, and it would be soaked if it started to rain.

Even though he could tell it was definitely going to rain again, he didn't get up from his spot by the creek. He stayed put, for reasons he didn't even know himself. The sound of the water drew him in, calming him and urging him to stay. Perhaps Dan liked the rain enough to get caught in it, and allow it to soak him entirely for nothing at all in return.

Everything seemed to slow down. Maybe it was being completely alone that caused him to feel that way. He wasn't sure. There was a storm coming, and that was all he knew for sure. Dan ended up losing track of how much time he spent sitting there by the creek; it was as if time spent itself. He felt a raindrop fall onto his pale face, and when he looked up: the storm had finally arrived, and it was ready to wage war on him.

Lucky for Dan, he didn't mind it much. The rain felt cold against his skin, but not cold enough to give him goosebumps. It reminded him of his childhood, when his parents wouldn't let him back inside the house, despite the rain pouring out of the sky. The memories were vivid, and as he closed his eyes, Dan was transported back to a time when he watched the raindrops trickle down his skin and connect with others in their path.

-

While Dan was lost in his surroundings, Phil was losing his mind. It was getting later, and the sudden rainstorm was getting increasingly intense as time passed. The wind was making it difficult to see; the rain coming down sideways and creating large puddles in the street. Thunder rolled in the distance, and subtle flashes of lightning came and went with the blink of an eye.

Phil was getting absolutely soaked, but going back home was no option. He was headed to the last place he could think that Dan would be, which was the forest at the edge of town. It was the last place within walking distance that he hadn't checked yet, and if he wasn't there, Phil had no idea where to go after that. He would just have to figure it out as he went along.

Something was giving him a bad feeling about the entire situation. He couldn't tell what the reason was for that feeling. Perhaps he just didn't want to get his hopes up too high, because Dan could be anywhere. Phil hated when he was missing something, because it always was frustrating to track it down again. This was something entirely different, because he was missing his best friend. He felt so close, yet so far away from finding him. It left him feeling so anxious that he could pass out from all the stress it brought.

Phil had been in a terrible state of mind ever since he discovered that Dan was missing. He was feeling worn down, but nothing could stop him from getting to that forest; especially not the weather.

By the time he reached the edge of the forest, he was suddenly aware of the wet clothes clinging to his frame. His hair was flat against his head, and dripping with rainwater. More thunder rumbled in the sky, causing Phil to stumble a bit. The soft moss had become slippery, and Phil was accident prone, so he had to watch his step the entire time. There was a clear path that appeared to be traveled quite a lot, so he decided to stick to it. Hopefully Dan had done the same, if he was even there at all.

The thick coverage of the trees helped to keep some of the rain from hitting him, but a majority of it was still making it through. He was lucky that it wasn't cold, because he was soaked from head to toe. The humidity that hung in the air kept him warm enough to refrain from shivering. It wrapped him in warmth as he made his way through the maze of tall trees.

Soon enough, he heard the sound of sobbing along with the rush of water. The cries sounded too familiar to him to be anyone but Dan. He broke into a faster pace with that - dead set on getting to him as fast as he possibly could.

He was sitting on a rock by the creek, which was getting higher with the heavy rain. His clothes were clinging to his frame in the same way Phil's were clinging to his. The water had made its way to Dan's feet without him even realizing it; things were getting terrible. His head was in his hands, so he couldn't see his best friend approaching.

Phil rushed to his side instantly. Dan only looked up when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"W-What's... What's going on, Phil?" Dan asked, breath still uneven from hoarsely crying.

"What are you doing here in this storm? Why didn't you bring your phone with you?" Phil answered him with more questions, and though it probably wasn't the best idea, it was the only thing he could will himself to say. The moment had him in an iron grip.

Dan grabbed Phil's arm, looking at the beads of water running down his skin. He then looked into his eyes, "I don't know what's happening... I just don't know."

Phil noticed how red Dan's eyes were. He wondered how long he sat there crying alone. "Will you come with me at least? I'm not gonna let you sit out in this rain, especially not by yourself."

Dan nodded slowly, feeling a few raindrops fall into his eyes in the process. They clouded his vision, and he thought about how well that matched his state of mind. He almost felt angry at himself for what had happened. He felt as though he could've done something about it to prevent it, when in reality, that wasn't possible at all.

Still, despite everything, Dan was upset with himself. He never had the guts to admit anything to himself, and when he finally did, he never took action. He always waited for nothing, hopelessly wasting time by going around in circles in his mind. Just when things were starting to look up, he would have some kind of major setback, and oh god: he was so frustrated. Nothing seemed to work out in his favor.

He thought about that a lot on their way back to his house. Phil had grabbed his hand, almost as if he was afraid he'd lose him somehow if he wasn't touching him. Little did Dan know, that was exactly the case. He was so afraid of that sinking feeling he felt when he opened the door to Dan's bedroom and found it empty. He never wanted to feel that again, so he squeezed his hand tighter as they walked briskly through the pouring down rain.

There wasn't much room for conversation until they reached Dan's house. The rain was loud, and they were walking so fast that they were both out of breath after a couple of blocks. It was getting darker by the minute; the evening slowly transitioning into nighttime. The storm began to slow a bit as they got closer to Dan's house.

Dan's hand slipped from Phil's own, the rainwater making it easier for them to part. He held unnecessary eye contact with Dan as he unlocked his door. When he slid the heavy glass out of the way, he pulled him inside with him, and shut it quickly.

Something felt different about Dan's room now that Phil wasn't frantically searching for him. It was some sort of relief, mixed with the dreary vibe it always gave off, but that wasn't all. There was something else about it that Phil couldn't quite put his finger on.

Dan silently left the room to get them both some towels to dry themselves off. While he was gone, Phil plugged in his fairy lights. They illuminated the entire room and chased away some of that heavy dreariness that was present. When Dan returned, he held out a towel to Phil, who gladly accepted it and ran it through his hair. Dan did the same.

Phil sat down on the floor, and Dan sat directly next to him: so close that their knees were touching. Dan seemed like he wanted to say something, but was holding back for some reason.

"Can you tell me what happened?" Phil asked, weariness showing through the discoloration underneath his eyes. He reached for Dan's hand, noticing how cold it was when he laced their fingers together again. "I promise I won't be angry with you like I was that one time a little while ago."

Dan stared at their hands blankly for a few seconds. "I-I don't know what happened. One minute, I was here, and then the next, I was walking around in that forest. Nothing makes any sense... I wish I knew what was going on but I just don't."

Phil squeezed his hand even tighter. "I tried to text you a couple times, and you weren't answering for a few hours. I was just so worried, Dan. I knocked on your door and asked your mom if I could see if you were here, and you weren't. I looked everywhere for you... and oh god, I never want to lose you like that ever again, do you understand?" He was on the brink of tears, but he didn't care if Dan saw him cry. They were so close that it didn't matter; all of the shame most friends felt around one another had faded long before that day.

"I'm so fucking sorry, I didn't mean to make you worry. I didn't mean for any of this to happen." Dan was on the brink of tears as well - the guilt had settled far too deep and he felt so terrible for putting Phil through that. He hated himself for what he had done, even though he wasn't consciously in control of it.

Phil took a deep breath, trying his best to collect his emotions and stop them from getting all over the place; he had to be strong enough for the two of them. "It's okay, but promise me that you'll get help. I... I love you and I can't just sit here watch you get worse. It hurts me too," he admitted with glassy eyes. He never thought he'd say those words and mean them as much as he did, but it happened, and he couldn't take it back.

Dan was paused in shock, his heart beating erratically in his chest as if he was looking directly into the eyes of a ghost. They always had a close friendship, but there were never verbal I love you's thrown around. It simply wasn't something they did. And although the words had slipped out of Phil's mouth by mere accident, he meant it wholeheartedly.

They had forgotten about their soaking wet clothes; too absorbed by each other to pay mind to anything else. There was so much Dan wanted to say, but he couldn't force the words past his teeth. They seemed to be stuck there: taunting and so real, yet the seventeen year old couldn't say them.

"Phil... I-"

Phil then panicked and untangled their hands from one another. A nauseous feeling was bubbling up in his stomach, causing him to attempt to draw focus away from the words he had just said. "Let's get you out of these wet clothes," he mumbled.

Dan shut his open mouth and nodded slowly. He got up and went for his closet, grabbing Phil some of his clothes to borrow. As they faced away from each other to change, Dan couldn't stop playing what Phil said in his mind. It played over and over, like a mantra. It didn't take much for him to drive himself insane.

It was quite loud in Dan's head, louder than it was on a typical day.

They ended up crawling into Dan's bed together, which happened more than either of them would care to admit. They never really spoke about it, and how it happened so often; talking around it seemed like the easier thing to do. It always was.

It was getting later, but neither of them were actually tired enough to fall asleep. Phil just wanted to hold Dan close to him, and to stay reluctant on letting him go. That day was a run around; it was entirely too hectic for the both of them. They needed to lay there together and do nothing for a little while, because that was the only thing that felt right to do after what had occurred.

Minutes passed effortlessly, and Dan couldn't stop thinking about the very person who was holding him so close. His head was on Phil's chest, while both of Phil's arms were wrapped tightly around Dan. That same old feeling of safety was nestled in his chest, and if Dan was being honest: it felt like he wanted home to feel.

Another emotion washed over the seventeen year old, or perhaps it was an urge. Whatever it was, it was something that was unmistakably there. Dan wanted to press his lips to Phil's lips - plain and simple. Maybe the aftermath wouldn't be that way, but he didn't care much for that. He knew what he wanted: he felt it stirring inside himself, and it packed too much power to simply ignore.

He just didn't know how to go about it, because he knew he wanted it, but what if Phil didn't? Their relationship could withstand almost anything, although Dan was afraid that kissing him would be the deal breaker. Phil was pansexual, that he knew, but that didn't mean that he was attracted to Dan. He wasn't sure if it was really a good idea, or if it was something he shouldn't have bothered to think about as extensively as he had.

He even waited a few minutes, just to see if the urge to kiss his best friend would go away with time; it didn't. Dan somewhat hoped it would make like a passing thought and go away without a problem. However, he didn't get his wish. Perhaps he was lonely. He had never kissed anyone before, and often he wondered what it would feel like to kiss someone he cared so much for. It wasn't so much due to genuine curiosity as it was the deep affection he held for Phil, and that was the one thing that kept tripping him up.

More time passed as he thought, and Dan was beginning to think that Phil was asleep. His breathing had evened out, and the grip he had on Dan's waist had loosened up a bit.

He decided to try his luck. He lifted his head up from its spot on his best friend's chest. "Phil?" He muttered, wondering if he'd even be able to hear him.

"Mmm?" Phil replied, well, sort of. He was resting between the awkward state of consciousness and restless sleep.

That somehow triggered the memory of Phil telling Dan that he loved him, and he froze for a split second. He took a deep breath, trying to control himself as he figured out how to say what was on his mind. "I... I just want you to know that I... love you too." The words came out shakily, but he still said them, which had to account for something.

Phil had been half asleep beforehand, not expecting to hear that at all. When he heard those words come out of Dan's mouth, he couldn't help but temporarily believe he was dreaming it all up. He remembered saying it earlier, although he didn't think Dan would say it back. Phil wasn't sure how much he wanted his best friend to mean it; let alone what kind of love he wanted it to be.

He smiled, teeth showing and sleep still present behind his eyes. Dan's face had paled a bit, but soon regained some of its color as soon as he laid his eyes on Phil's smile.

Neither knew what to do or say next. There was some silence, and then Phil pulled Dan up so that they were face to face; mere inches apart. Their breaths mingled - they were so close and it was as if this was something they did all the time. Dan was hoping it would be.

"I'm so happy that you do," Phil spoke softly, but was sure of his words. He felt weightless.

Dan was stunned into an odd kind of blissful silence. He wanted to say something, anything at all, because he was afraid that he didn't get the message across properly. Then again, what message was he even trying to convey? He wasn't too sure.

So he did the only thing that he could think to do in that moment, and that was pressing his lips onto Phil's lips. The way they molded together had his head spinning out of control: a high, almost. He couldn't get over how natural and real it felt.

Phil was shocked that Dan initiated the kiss, but he soon grabbed his face and kissed him back. When they pulled apart, they locked eyes, and their breathing became manual.

"Y-You really love me?" Dan asked a needless question after what had just happened, because he wasn't sure if words would properly come out of his mouth after that, and he just wanted to make sure.

Phil nodded, eyes glinting. "Of course I do." His hands were still on the sides of Dan's face. "Can I-"

"Please."

With that, Phil kissed his best friend for the second time that evening. It felt like something they were meant to do, something that was missing from their relationship before. There was a sense of closeness that Phil never wanted to let go of, because just hours prior to that: he thought he lost Dan.

Halfway through the second kiss, he removed his hands from Dan's face, and instead, he slinked his arms around him. Nothing could take Dan away from Phil, not even Dan himself.


	13. a fear, a phone call, a plan

The kisses they shared were something like monumental, and they were both something like fixated with each other's lips. It was a newly developed thing; a bit unstable due to the newness of it all, but it worked nonetheless. That night, they had fallen asleep in each other's arms. The action itself was nothing new, although there was more love than ever before stirring between them.

It became outward, which was something Dan and Phil were both avoiding for reasons they didn't care much to share. So much was happening all at once. Not much else mattered except for the simple fact that they felt the throbbing presence of love in their chests. It was there, and it wasn't afraid to make itself known anymore.

Dan was a bit scared of what would happen; he didn't know where to go from that point and he was afraid to make any wrong moves. He just didn't want to tantalize or get too far ahead of himself.

He knew that Phil wouldn't push him into anything he didn't want to do or be a part of, but he couldn't help but wonder if he'd end up pushing himself into such a thing. Dan tended to do that from time to time, because there was a certain type of fear nestled in his brain, and it told him that he should take more chances. He had to disregard its desperate pleas for attention - it was better if he pretended that he never had the chance in the first place. Most of the time, the risks weren't worth it, and Dan found himself worse off than he had previously been. He was real good at fucking everything up.

Phil wasn't much different from Dan, as much as he told himself that he was. In the end, he was paranoid and generally fearful of most things, and he didn't take very many chances. The fear of losing was too strong for him to take action. That's where they had all too much in common.

It kinda felt like life had changed for the both of them with just the touch of their lips, yet they pretended that it was all just the same as before. Well, at least Dan did, because he was so afraid of doing the wrong thing and fucking up what they had entirely. He was walking on eggshells when it was completely unnecessary; Phil liked, and even loved him more than anything else. Even with Dan knowing that, he still felt as if something would inevitably go wrong, and that it would be his fault.

Due to everything that went down in a matter of a couple hours, they both decided to skip school. It was the last day until break anyway, so it didn't matter much if they showed up or not. Phil was glad that Dan didn't want to go, because he wanted to keep an eye on him, especially after what he went through to find him. He promised himself that he wouldn't let that happen again.

Phil knew that it wasn't his fault that Dan slipped into a state and wandered away, but he couldn't help the thoughts he was having surrounding that traumatizing incident. It would be a lot easier to just blame it all on himself, even though it didn't make much sense to do so. Things were growing a bit complicated in Phil's head day by day, and being put in stressful situations definitely worsened it. He felt scatterbrained in the worst way - there was too much mess.

They spent their skipped school day in London with Troye and Connor. Neither of them had classes that day, so they agreed to tag along for the spontaneous trip. The train ride there was quite relaxing; it felt as if the world slowed its speed for a little while. Dan had the annoying pain of a headache when they boarded, but it slowly faded as they got farther away from home. He considered the fact that it wasn't just a coincidence.

Conversations were kept light and simple, mainly due to the events of the previous day. They could all feel the weight of that day, even after it had passed. Once the sleep inducing train ride was over, they got off and starting walking around the grand city, and admiring all it had to offer. Phil found a sense of belonging there, and he imagined what life would be like if he lived there permanently.

That caused him to think about his future, and somehow, his brain automatically included Dan in it. There was no room for second thoughts: it was him and only him.

As they walked around and went in and out of shops of all kinds, Phil had one thing at the forefront of his mind: the night before. He kept replaying the feeling of Dan's lips on his, and each time he felt a jolt of emotion in his chest. It spread throughout his body with each beat of his heart. They had been so beautifully close, and it gave off the illusion that everything was okay for a little while. Phil wanted to do it again, and many more times after that. He was hoping that they could.

Now Phil knew what Dan meant when he talked about the disconnect between his body and mind, because his body was miles away from his mind as they walked around. He used to figure that the two go hand in hand, but in some cases: they do not. Sometimes, they make like two separate lines drawn by the same pen, just on two different pieces of paper.

Soon enough, he snapped out of the sort of daze he fell into by accident. Phil kept his eyes on Dan, making sure he was still there. There was an odd worry somewhere in his mind - it told him that perhaps he was just dreaming, and he still hadn't found Dan yet. He knew he had, because he had the memories to prove it.

But memories are flimsy; the mind can create whatever it pleases, and try to pass it off as genuine in the process. Phil knew this, he knew it well: he learned it from observing Dan. Watching him fall apart like that for as long as he did altered his previous thoughts about the brain and its relationship with memories. He slowly came to realize how the mind can deteriorate, and how it can create mass destruction in one's life. There's too much that can go wrong when dealing with the brain.

And there was so much blame. Phil was silly enough to put the blame on himself sometimes, because it was easiest to put the weight on his own shoulders. He also blamed Dan's parents, who were as good as absent in his best friend's life. He blamed the universe, and he blamed everything else he could think of. There was a reason for it, though; Phil was looking for answers in unnecessary places. He wouldn't find them by putting blame on everyone and everything, but there was something that made him believe that it would help.

After their long day, they boarded the train back home. It was more peaceful now that they were tired; Dan even fell asleep on Phil's shoulder halfway through. Troye noticed first and smiled at Phil. He had no idea what happened between them after Phil brought Dan home, and neither did Connor. Although it was unspoken, they both could tell that something was going on between the two of them.

-

"Do you wanna talk about... this?" Phil asked as they got off the train in their town. They weren't far from home; within walking distance actually.

Dan immediately knew what he was talking about. The previous day left quite an imprint on him, and even though it was nothing negative: it caused an impact that would change some things. His chest felt funny just thinking about Phil's words. "Yeah, I do," he replied with a shaky voice, wringing his hands as he spoke.

A few beats of silence passed while Phil decided what to say. He looked over at Dan, and his face seemed twisted with thought. He wondered what was going on in his mind, even though he'd never know the full extent of it. He took a breath, "what do you want us to be?"

And maybe that question was too vague, because Dan's brain couldn't come up with a coherent reply quick enough. "I... I don't know, I..." his voice trailed off and didn't return.

Phil saw his obvious distress, "we'll talk about it when we get to mine, okay?"

"Okay."

When they arrived at Phil's house, Dan's lungs were burning, almost as if someone ripped open his chest and dropped a lit match in there. They didn't even walk that fast, he just had too much on his mind and it all made him so nervous to think about in such depth.

He felt better in Phil's house, like he was sheltered from the rest of the filthy world. It scared him more than he ever thought it would - with all of its rules and standards, and general things that could be potentially harmful. His house didn't feel like a home in the slightest, and he accepted that when he was much younger.

Whilst he was lost in thought, Phil put a hand on his shoulder ever so lightly, and he almost didn't feel it. He turned him around, and Dan didn't know what else to do, so he embraced him for all he was worth. It did little to make him feel better, but it felt nice all the same. Phil was surprised for a second, then quickly grabbed hold of the person who was latched onto him.

"Are you ready to talk about it?" He was afraid to bring it up again, afraid to pry like he had. It was just too important to leave unspoken, and they both knew that. He felt Dan nod in his grasp.

Phil slowly pulled away from the embrace, reluctant to make any moves. He caught Dan's hand in his own. "Come sit in bed with me."

They got situated on top of Phil's duvet, and Dan looked like he had something to say. "I'm scared, Phil," he said all his lungs allowed him to for the time being; they were still burning, but with a little bit less intensity.

Phil looked directly into his eyes, like they would disappear if he looked away. "What are you scared of?"

"I'm just thinking... what if my mental health, like... ruins this? What if you get tired of dealing with me, because I can tell that this is wearing on you. You're gonna get sick of me, I can tell. That's what I'm afraid of, that all this will fall apart and I'll be to blame." Dan broke eye contact with Phil, playing with his fingers instead as the words rapidly left his mouth. "If whatever we have gets fucked up, I can guarantee that it'll be my fault."

Phil didn't know where else to look, so he kept his eyes on Dan's face. He looked tired, more tired than usual. His eyes appeared sunken in and his face looked slimmer in general, and Phil didn't understand how he didn't notice sooner. "Stop blaming yourself, it's not your fault that you're like this. And I won't get sick of you, Dan. There's a reason why I'm here and why we're talking about this right now. It matters, and because it matters, I won't let anything happen to it."

Dan blinked back the unnecessary tears that were beginning to form in his brown eyes. For some reason, he wanted Phil to tell him that everything would be his fault. He wanted to take responsibility for the shit going on in his head, because it felt an awful lot like it was him who caused it all. A sick part of Dan yearned for Phil to say that he would get sick of him; he wanted to feel the pain of loss.

When Dan said nothing, Phil spoke up again. "I know I say it all the time, but I care about you, and nothing will change that. I love you as well, and even if you aren't capable of feeling the same way, just know that I'm here and I'll be whatever you want me to be to you."

Dan could sense his sincerity by the tone of his voice, and it only made the tears harder to hold back. He really appreciated Phil, even though most of the time he didn't know what he wanted to be to him. "I-I'm sorry for being such... a goddamn asshole," he stopped trying not to cry, and instead just let it happen. "I just," Dan paused for a breath, "I want to be with you... and I love you, but I don't want to lose you in case something goes wrong."

"Dan, look at me," Phil moved from his place across from him, sitting next to him instead.

Dan lifted his head, and a couple of hot tears found their way down his face. They created lines that reflected the low amount of light in the room. Phil brushed some hair out of his eyes gently, overly careful as if he would break under his touch. He began to run his fingers through it, and Dan rested his head on his shoulder in response.

Phil pressed a kiss to the top of Dan's head, and he wrapped his arm around him for support, rubbing his forearm to comfort him. "Shh, you're alright, we're alright." He kept his voice soft and low, partly to soothe Dan and partly so that his parents wouldn't hear them.

"I'm s-sorry for being like this, I-"

"Not your fault," Phil interrupted Dan because he couldn't stand to hear him say more awful things about himself.

Dan curled into Phil, savoring his soft touch, and it felt like all the world was gone. He would wish it all away if it meant that he could stay with Phil forever.

Phil wanted him to understand that he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon, because it seemed like all of Dan's fears were centered around losing Phil. "You aren't a burden, you know. You've never been. I've got you."

Dan's lungs still burned, and so did his eyes after all the tears they blinked past. They weren't clouding his vision anymore, but he still felt that feeling that he always felt after crying. It was an emptiness that left him feeling drained of all he had. As a child, it lead him to believe that tears were all he really had.

There wasn't anything that Dan could think to say in that moment. All his words were trapped inside himself, whirling around his head like a tornado of things unsaid. He stayed quiet as Phil soothed him, and maybe he wasn't as much of a burden as he made himself out to be.

-

"Can you hear me good?" Phil asked into his phone's speaker to Connor on the other end of the call. He was having technological troubles when he really needed to talk to him - it was a strange type of urgent.

There were some staticky sounds emitted through the line, then Connor's voice, "yeah, I can hear you now. What do you need? Something wrong?"

Phil had been a bit reluctant to make the call in the first place, because he knew that Connor was a busy guy, but he just needed to talk to someone else about this. "Yeah, sort of. I like... need advice, I guess. Everything's a mess right now."

"Oh god. Why is everything a mess?"

"It just is. I'm worried about Dan, and the thing is, nothing is getting any better. We... um," Phil paused, and suddenly he felt wrong to talk about it. Maybe Dan didn't want anyone else to know, he never said anything about telling Troye and Connor.

Connor let out a sigh, "I am too. I don't want to pry or anything, but what's been going on between you two? It seems like you're, um... together?"

"That's kinda what I wanted to talk to you about. Dammit, we kissed the other day and when I tried to talk to him about it, it turned into a bit of a mess. He's been on edge a lot lately, more so than before. Ever since he slipped into that state and took off, things have been... bad." Phil's chest felt oddly heavy, despite the fact that he was venting about his problems. "And I'm so afraid of where this will go, because I genuinely care for him... and I don't want anything to happen to him. I want him safe but I'm afraid... something's wrong. It's his mental health, it's bad and there's not much we can do about it."

"Phil, god, I'm glad you called. Is he refusing help? I know that therapy won't solve everything, but it... it doesn't hurt to try." Connor felt terrible for his lack of response. He was sort of shocked and his brain just wanted to shut down right then.

"Yeah, pretty much. He's just... so stubborn and he thinks that whatever this is will go away on its own. Before I used to believe him when he told me that, because, well - I didn't really understand mental health stuff like I do now. I've been researching a lot over the past couple months, and the more I'm around him, the more I notice how different he's been. I wish I could fix everything. He doesn't deserve this at all," Phil's voice cracked on the last word, and he felt tears coming on. Everything was falling apart at rapid speed, it seemed.

Connor couldn't help but pause. Phil sounded so hopeless, like he was stuck at a dead end with nothing. He remained speechless for a few moments. "Listen, you need to talk to him. Tell him that... he can't pretend this all is just a dream. Because that's what it seems like he's doing, and it's not helping. I'm not a doctor, I'm just a university student majoring in psychology, so I can't really help either. Just try to talk him into seeing somebody about it."

Phil had tears blurring his vision, but he only wiped them away with the back of his hand before they had a chance to fall. "I've tried, Connor, I've tried. He doesn't want to hear it. He doesn't care, it's like he wants to feel this way. I don't know what to do, or where to go from here."

"Go over his head; find him a therapist and then when you take him, tell him you're going somewhere else. Or say that it's a surprise. Something's gotta change here, Phil. Nothing will if you don't step in," Connor replied earnestly, voice loader than before.

Phil looked out his bedroom window, watching as a storm cloud approached: the sky a dark grey-blue color. Maybe that was only a coincidence, or maybe the weather was trying to tell him something. "You really think that's a good idea?"

"It's the only option at this point."


	14. plucking stars from the sky

Waking up in the morning wasn't getting any easier. Every day was some similar to an uphill battle, and Dan couldn't find the motivation to get out of bed like he used to. Granted: it was never easy in the first place, but it was becoming something he held a ridiculous amount of dread for. Life was a bore; unfulfilling and agonizingly slow. Each second that the early summer offered him felt like a year in that house. He wanted out, and soon.

Phil's place was the only one that gave him the temporary relief he yearned for. His family was always nice to him, even though he hardly felt like he deserved their kindness. Perhaps they could sense something was wrong with him, or perhaps Phil told them everything. There was no way of telling.

It was a particularly gloomy morning, so he figured he'd text Phil real quick and tell him that he'd be there in a couple minutes. Dan sometimes worried that Phil would be busy, although he was usually just as bored as Dan was. He figured that it was better to be bored together than alone, anyway.

Phil replied within a minute or so, telling him that it was okay. He was thinking of what to say to him, because he knew he needed therapy - to talk about it and get the help that Phil himself couldn't possibly provide. Dan seemed to be struggling more, but it was almost like he was trying to hide and it take care of it himself before anyone tried to do it for him. Phil knew that would never work, and he couldn't stop worrying about Dan because of that. He was a wreck; things would need to change. Phil didn't know how much longer he could keep the two of them afloat.

So when Dan showed up at his door on that gloomy day in June, Phil was there immediately to answer it. He brought him into a bone crushing hug, hearing Dan sigh into his shoulder. Phil could feel him smiling.

"Miss me?" Dan asked, already forgetting the last time they saw each other. It would come back to him sooner or later.

"Yeah, I did," Phil admitted with a growing smile. "So, what do you wanna do?"

Dan thought as they walked up to Phil's room. He was tired, but that was nothing new. He was always exhausted, never mind the number of hours he slept. "I don't know, you have anything good to watch?"

"Um, yeah, I'll find something." Phil was forming some kind of plan in his head, which distracted him. It was difficult to think and talk at the same time.

Dan sat on Phil's bed, and took note of how lived in Phil's room felt. Dan's room was stripped of personality; everything tidy and ordered. He hardly spent much of his time there, so he went through and put everything away or threw it out. He didn't want his parents finding anything out about him, and the best way to keep them from knowing everything was not to show anything at all.

They wouldn't care if he didn't come home at night and neglected to let them know where he was. It wasn't something they stressed, because they didn't care. Dan knew from when he was a kid that they didn't - it was obvious. Knowing and realizing such a thing used to make him feel sad, but soon enough, he felt nothing. He didn't care anymore.

Phil put in some movie that Dan didn't know the title of, and in retrospect, it really didn't matter. The only thing that held any sort of significance was the conversation that they needed to have, because Phil was about to explode with all the words stirring around and around in his head.

A little less than halfway through the movie, Phil grabbed the remote and paused it. Dan looked at him, confused, until Phil started the conversation that would change everything. "I can't pretend anymore."

"What do you mean?" Dan asked, genuinely confused as to what Phil was talking about.

"You're... you're not okay. I can't pretend that you're okay anymore, because I know that you're not. I don't care what it takes, we _need_ to get you help."

Silence. Perhaps that small window of silence was what killed Dan the most. He still wasn't sure if he really wanted the help, but judging by the look on Phil's face: he had to do something different this time. He couldn't just refuse help and move on, _no_. This was it, once and for all. Dan had such a hard time making decisions, although this was one where he felt he had no other choice.

Dan looked Phil in the eyes, feeling his heart take a dive down into his stomach for the words he was about to say. "I need to get help," he spoke quietly. "I... I can't act this is nothing anymore. You're right, you're so fucking right."

That moment would cause his life to switch directions. Simply admitting the problem like he had caused him to see a little sliver of hope, and perhaps he would start seeing more. The life that seemed endlessly terrible was now about to change, and Dan didn't know there was even enough of a chance for that to happen.

Phil could hardly believe what he heard. "So, you'll let somebody help you now?"

Dan nodded, "yeah... I think I'm ready for that." He looked out Phil's window, and half expected the scenery to change.

"Alright, well, I guess I'll call Connor." Phil grabbed his phone from beside him, preparing to make the call.

Dan forced a smile, "okay."

-

Phil received the number from Connor - it was his professor after all. He was the one who set up the appointment for Dan, and he told the woman all about the things that Dan had been experiencing. She seemed very concerned, but kind nonetheless. It was her job to deal with cases like him, after all.

Her name was Doctor Williams, and Dan would be lying if he said that he wasn't nervous for his appointment. The thought of it creeped up on him, causing him to fear it greatly. Although there was nothing to be afraid of, Dan still found himself shaking at night before he fell asleep; thinking terrible things that didn't make much sense.

He knew that it was useless to worry about something that wouldn't happen, but it was too difficult to stop. Phil would reassure him, telling him that it would help to make his head a better place. Silently, Phil hoped that it really would work, because there wasn't much else they could do to help Dan.

Dan was afraid of the questions that he would be asked - the prying ones that left no room for dishonesty. The things that happened inside his head wanted to stay in darkness, never to be brought out into the harsh bright lights of a therapy session.

Phil wasn't a therapist, and perhaps that was why Dan would open up to him. He didn't understand what he was experiencing like a therapist would inevitably, so he felt somewhat safe. He also knew Phil; he wasn't a terrifying stranger with bad intentions. Dan wished he could simply be okay, without the aide of another person with a doctorate.

So when the time came to go to Doctor Williams' office, Dan was shaking like a leaf. Phil rubbed his arms, trying to calm him down. It made little difference, and when they arrived at the building fifteen minutes later, Dan was still shaking with nervousness.

Before he knew it, Dan was sat in one of those stereotypical lounge chairs that you always see on television; mimicked therapy sessions with actors and illnesses that weren't really there. It was burgundy, and looking around, he noticed that the entire room was cloaked in a darker shade. His therapist's hair was even a dark hue of brown, and she had matching brown eyes. Somehow, the dark colors put Dan's mind to ease. He quite liked darkness.

"Do you want me to stay here with you?" Phil asked, getting ready to leave in case Dan didn't want him there.

Dan thought for a moment. "Uh, yeah... please stay."

Phil took a seat on a comfortable looking chair up against the wall in the room. Doctor Williams smiled at him as she got together some papers she needed for their session. Dan took a deep breath, trying to relieve some of the tension built up in his body.

And so it began.

"So, Dan. I'd like to get to know you a little first. Tell me about yourself."

-

The session had been a success: Dan told her the more bright and happy parts of his life, even though they were few and far between. It happened to be easier than he expected, because the words found their way from his brain to his mouth for once in his life. He thought that Doctor Williams was easy to talk to, as a therapist should be.

Before they left, another appointment was set for the following week. Dan didn't feel the same weight of anticipation on his chest for their second session. He even went by himself, which surprised Phil greatly. He let him go and didn't argue it, despite his worry that something bad would happen.

By the end of the white hot summer, Dan was feeling the best he ever felt. Things were still quite hazy on bad days, but at least he had days that could be classified as good days. He would even go as far as saying that he was a happier person as well, with his therapist and his friends helping him along.

Sometime in the middle of July, Dan had moved in with Phil. After all, Phil's brother left and his room was unoccupied, so Phil offered for Dan to take it. He knew his brother wouldn't mind, and his family loved Dan almost like he was their own. Dan liked to think that getting out of that dreary house was excellent for his mental health. Not seeing his parents anymore helped too; they seemed to cause a lot of problems in Dan's life from day one, and perhaps he was meant to leave without uttering a goodbye to them. They didn't deserve it.

Things got better with time, as events happened and a path unfolded before his eyes: paving the way for better days. Phil was so proud of Dan, to the point where he cried and hugged him tightly, never wanting to let him go. Dan felt so loved, and really, he was.

He started writing regularly in a journal, it was Doctor Williams' idea. She said that it would help him remember and comprehend what was happening in his life. Dan was skeptical at first, but once he kept writing it in for a week straight, he was a believer. It helped him organize his thoughts, so every night before he went to sleep, he wrote about his day. He wrote about even the most mundane of things, because they happened. They were real, everything was real.

Phil would always kiss him goodnight, telling him to have sweet dreams. Before, when everything was hazy all the time, Dan couldn't sleep properly. Now, he didn't wake up very much during the night, and the dreams he did have were more strange than scary and dark. His mind was no longer the heavy place it once was - Dan felt like a new person when he compared himself to how he was months prior.

When the summer rain came in tides across the blue sky, Phil held him in his bed. They would listen to the sound of the rain hitting the roof of his house; it made Dan feel all warm and safe inside. For the first time in his life, Dan found tranquility. He decided that there was nothing better than having peace with himself.

His problems didn't fade away entirely, but they became manageable, and that meant the entire world to Dan, as well as Phil. He hated to see him like he had previously - that was one of the hardest things Phil ever had to bear.

There were times Phil would sneak into Dan's room and read his journal without him knowing, but he just wanted to see if he was still doing it daily like he promised he would. It brought a smile to his face when he found the dates in consecutive order, one by one with words written across the lined pages in blue ink.

_I've found a stillness that I never thought I'd ever find. It's a good kind of stillness; there's nothing chaotic happening. Not anymore._

_I remember when I used to see the black spots (I think they were spots, but perhaps they were claws) climb up the walls like a sick dream, only it wasn't a dream. It was my reality. Sometimes I feel haunted by the things I used to frequently experience, but I guess I've learned to let go._

_Things are much better nowadays. Not living with mom and dad has helped me as much, if not more than the weekly therapy sessions. They are awful people, and I truly hope that I never see them again in my lifetime. Maybe Phil and I will move away from here someday, and they will lose track of me completely. I think they know I'm here._

_I don't care though, not anymore. I am a different person now, I am recovering. Even though I will never fully recover, I will still be so much better off than I used to be. Things are better now, and it's probably the best thing that's ever happened to me._

_Without Phil, I don't think I ever would have gone to therapy in the first place. I'd still be stuck at my parent's house, that evil place where my sorrows only sprouted from the floorboards. They wrapped around my neck once before, but now I'm free. God, without Phil I don't know what would have become of me. I think he's the love of my life, and not just because he saved mine. There's a lot more I could write about him, but I think I'll save it for another day._

_It's time for me to sleep now. I can't wait to wake up and see the sun, I can't wait to live another day. There's some visible stars out tonight, and they look so real that perhaps I could reach out and pluck them from the sky._


	15. epilogue

Phil made his way down the narrow hallway of their apartment, going to check on Dan. He had awoken in the middle of the night, and he wondered if he was still awake. The clock read one in the morning - Phil's legs felt wobbly and awkward, yet he continued walking anyway.

Dan's door was left ajar, so he pushed it open and walked in slowly. He watched the shadows from the moonlit spread across the floor, and he jumped when the door made a squeaking noise. Phil winced as he heard it, fearing that he'd wake Dan up. Luckily, Dan was asleep, and the sound didn't wake him. Phil breathed a sigh of relief.

He was curled up in a ball, with the blanket clenched in his fists, as if someone was going to take it from him. His eyelids would twitch every so often, and before he knew it: Phil was standing in Dan's room watching him sleep. It was almost as if his eyes couldn't get enough of him; they drank in the sight of Dan in such a peaceful state. Phil couldn't help it, he was beautiful.

As soon as Phil went to leave, he heard mumbling. Dan began to mumble incoherent syllables in his sleep, which stopped Phil in his tracks. He knew he had to go, despite his sudden concern for him. Waking him was simply no option - Dan wasn't the type to go back to sleep once he was already awake.

So Phil left as quietly as he came in, making his way back down the hall to his own room. The apartment felt almost eerie at that time of the night, and Phil was spooking himself by thinking about all that could be lurking in the shadows. Maybe watching scary videos before bed was a bad idea after all.

He crawled back into his bed, and immediately regretted it. It was cold and Phil felt weird in bed all alone; he wished that Dan was clinging to his side like he would on some nights. Dan liked to sleep alone sometimes, but Phil just wanted Dan smack up against him every night. He felt impossibly lonely when he slept alone.

Minutes passed as Phil stared at his digital clock, watching the red dots blink - counting the seconds. Once ten minutes went by like that, he had had enough. He grabbed his pillow and blanket, and made his way back down the hall again. Sleeping on the floor of Dan's bedroom would feel weird; at least he was right there with him and not on his own.

-

"Phil... Phil?" Dan wasn't entirely sure why Phil was on his bedroom floor. He had just woken up, and was quite confused as to what was going on in the first place.

Phil stirred, then sat up, looking confused himself. "Hmm?"

"Why are you here?" Dan slumped over towards the side of the his bed: the side that Phil was on.

Phil's eyes met Dan's, and the heavy weight of sleep left his body with the sudden eye contact. "Oh, I woke up in the middle of the night and couldn't go back to sleep, so I came in here," he admitted.

Dan couldn't help but giggle - Phil thought it was adorable when he did that. "You could have climbed into bed with me, I wouldn't mind," Dan said before he reached out to mess up Phil's hair.

"But, didn't you want to sleep alone? I just know that you do sometimes and I-"

Dan cut in, "Phil, just... I don't care anymore. I think I'm tired of sleeping alone, to be honest." There were a few beats of silence. "Come here."

Phil tried not to blush, yet failed. Ever since Dan started therapy a couple years before, he hadn't initiated much of anything between them. He was afraid that it would make him worse somehow, or that he would be taking advantage of him in such a state of mind. They had only kissed a handful of times, but that would soon be changing.

So he climbed into his bed, Dan wearing the biggest smile on his face. He scooted closer to Phil and laid his head on his chest: a typical position for them when they shared a bed. Phil's hands rubbed Dan's back - everything felt safe and happy, far away from all the bad things.

And Dan wanted to tell him that he loved him, but he couldn't find a way for the words to come out the right way. Perhaps showing it would be more beneficial, so he picked his head off Phil's shoulder and leaned in until they were face to face. All vulnerability gone, Dan pressed his lips to Phil's lips for the first time in a long while. It sent a shock through both of their bodies; the feeling was no longer numbed by time, instead, it was renewed. It came back more powerful than the last time they kissed.

When Dan pulled away, Phil was wearing the face of pure shock. He wasn't expecting such a thing to happen before eight in the morning, that's for sure. "You... you..." his voice faded away; no words were making it out of his mouth.

"I love you." Once Dan said it, he found himself wanting to say in a million times over. Sure, he'd said it before, but things were different then.

Dan changed a lot within the span of two years. He continued going to therapy, continued to make progress with his mental health. There were bad times, but he fought through them. He wrote countless journals; documenting what his days consisted of. His parents were out of the picture, so much that Dan hadn't seen them since he moved out of their house and in with Phil's family. They didn't even try to contact him.

Sometimes it hurt to know that his family wanted nothing to do with him. He would mull over it at night when he couldn't shut his brain off, until the day he realized that they didn't matter. It took some time, but Dan started to focus his attention on other things. The wound was healed, and it didn't hurt anymore - not even a little bit.

Dan was better, he was so much better, and he could finally feel like he was supposed to feel. He felt capable to show affection, so he did. Perhaps that was the greatest thing he ever felt in his life. The time had come; he was ready to be with Phil like he wanted for so many months, even years.

Phil was floored, needless to say. "I love you too... but... are you sure?"

"Sure about what?" Dan couldn't hide his fondness behind his eyes anymore, and maybe he never did in the first place.

Phil pulled him closer, heart beating erratically in his chest. "Us, whatever's going on here."

Dan didn't even have to think about it, he already knew. "Yeah, I am," he took Phil's hands in his own, brushing his fingers over them gently. "What do you think?"

"I think that if you're ready, then so am I."

-

Things felt so much different in their apartment after that morning in Dan's bed. It was almost as if the air replaced itself for better, more breathable air. They didn't sleep alone anymore, they slept intertwined; tangled together in a way that made it difficult to leave the bed.

Phil would be ever so gentle whenever he touched Dan, fearing he would break somehow. He knew that was a silly thing to do, but it was almost a habit. He felt as if it was his duty to protect him from everything and anything. Dan was just so delicate.

As they eased into the more intimate side of their relationship, life felt colorful; twisting and turning like a beautiful kaleidoscope. Dan felt the burn of happiness in his chest, which was a feeling he never thought he'd get to experience. The numbness was gone, it faded away after all the good change in his life. Things were better.

Troye and Connor visited them often: they graduated from university and were starting careers of their own. They wanted to help other people with their mental health, just like Doctor Williams had with Dan. He still went to see her every now and then, but for the most part, he was therapy-free.

Dan kept all his old journals and sticky notes from previous years locked away, for he didn't want to see them. Although it was comforting knowing that they were there, he never brought them out and looked at them. They only reminded him of the bad days, and he was already past those. Mulling over them would only cause problems, so he avoided it entirely.

Their apartment had a garden - tending to it gave Dan a feeling of purpose. It may have been small, but it was his pride and joy. Phil kept various houseplants in the apartment as well, even though he wasn't very good at remembering to water them. Dan would scold him, and they'd have little domestic moments that were something like the bane of Phil's existence.

And even though things were certainly different from how they used to be, they were happy. In fact, they were thriving. They loved each other just the same as before, although it became more prominent as time went by.

There were no more hallucinations or visions, and forgotten thoughts became infrequent. Phil's head no longer pounded from the stress and worry about Dan. There remained only clear skies and swelling hearts inside tangled bodies, with enough happiness in their apartment to last for many years to come - if not forever, then for a very long time.


	16. playlist

These are songs that aided me in writing this fic, as well as conveying thoughts and emotions that I want you to feel. Listen to them if you'd like.

Radiohead - Climbing Up The Walls

The Cure - The Same Deep Water As You

PVRIS - You and I

Halsey - Control

The All-American Rejects - Drown Next To Me

The Cure - A Night Like This

Daughter - Made Of Stone

The Killers - Sweet Talk

Carpenters - (A Place To) Hide Away

Radiohead - How to Disappear Completely

The Cure - Lovesong

Arcade Fire - Ready to Start

Basement - Aquasun

Twenty One Pilots - Trapdoor

The Cure - A Thousand Hours

Siouxsie and The Banshees - Sick Child

Radiohead - Bullet Proof ... I Wish I Was

The Smiths - Well I Wonder

Fleetwood Mac - Brown Eyes

Milk Teeth - Moon Wanderer


End file.
